The 'Old Lie' Does Not Mix With New Weapons & Love
by LightofaThousandSuns
Summary: AU. War and Love were never to mix, that was for certain. But they did, and when World War III arrived..It left lovers on opposite sides, nations in shambles, and hearts torn..and one of their own dead. YAOI/Shota/Het; ON HIATUS/May be discontinued.
1. Prologue: Dawn's Rays Mixed with Guilt

A/N: YES. This IS what you think it is. ^^

I'm branching out into another fandom ladies and gentlemen, but don't worry! I do NOT plan to forget about Death Note at all. As a matter of fact, I still have eleven more full-length Death Note stories to write/finish… (Sweatdrop)

BUT…NOW…There's Hetalia TOO!

I have had the urge to write this story for some time, and it is going to be VERY, VERY LONG! ^-^ So, let me give you the lowdown on it

- I plan to encompass as many characters as possible. Yes, I know there are about 40-50 some currently; I'm up for the challenge ;D

- This IS a AU. It does not take place during WWI or WII…But another war. You'll see as I go on.

- There are going to be MANY pairings in this story. Some will be touched on a lot, some will be touched on slightly, but ALL will be present; There are 20-some currently in store for the story, there may be more, there may be less. But the main ones are:

**- Russia x China**

**- US x UK**

**- Germany x Northern Italy **

Again, these are the only three main ones. There are going to be MANY pairings, with the majority of the nations in some form of a relationship (or extreme flirtation xD). There is going to be YAOI, Hetero, and even Shota in this story. Don't like, don't read! ;D

- The story will have a good deal of humor, but be warned! This is labeled a drama for a reason, and expect angst too!

And the title is based off of the poem "Dulce et decorum est" by Wilfred Owen; the man's theme for the poem was the "Old Lie". If you have never read it, I suggest you read it or look it up on Wikipedia. ^-^ It may help with understanding the title a tad bit more.

Now, please enjoy: _The "Old Lie" Does Not Mix With New Weapons & Love_

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_Borders are scratched across the hearts of men  
By strangers with a calm, judicial pen,  
And when the borders bleed we watch with dread  
The lines of ink across the map turn red._

_- _Marya Mannes, _Subverse: Rhymes for Our Times_, 1959

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One would not have guessed that Alfred F. Jones was dreading the moments to come as the limousine drove down the newly paved-over roads, the country-side flying by as bright-blue orbs stared out a tinted window. Beautiful golden flowers lined the road, spring time just arriving in the country mere weeks ago. Pine trees glistened with early-morning dew; the time being in the early morning, just fifteen minutes after seven to be precise. Silence save for the tires on the road echoed out, not even the birds chirped this morning; did they know what the date of today was too? Were they observing a solemn morn like the rest of the world?

Either way, that was not on the forefront of the young man's mind…For no, America showed no fear, he never had, never will. A hero could never show fright, show despair! Not when there was so much at stake, yes?

…But perhaps traveling towards a graveyard changes a human being's emotions; for the blonde man, now at the age of twenty-one, was nearly sweating with anticipation, dread.

It would be the first time he was to pay his respects to the deceased, former comrade, after two long years…

Had it really been two long years since the world had gone to Hell?

Alfred sighed; no one could ever realize the guilt that still beat in time with the adventurous one's heart, the sadness that still coated his breaths when he exhaled every waking day.

He had not meant to aim at that man, yes…? That strong, normally-caring individual...

America h-had been aiming at that other soldier…w-who was aiming at Arthur Kirkland…

…The young male had never been good with guns, he was a pilot dammit! Did not his bomber jacket symbolize that?! His boss had just sent him out into that snowy field to keep an eye on his men, and then-then…

Alfred's grip on the ebony roses that were situated in his lap tightened, that same closing feeling of his throat occurred once more, as memories of screams and cries, and sobs from nations echoed in his mind…

The spectacles-adorned one still blamed himself…after all these years…He was happy still, and still his perky self, yes…

But those burdens he had won during the most recent War…The War had should not have happened in the first place…They had changed him, made his once-always-carefree heart a great deal heavier.

Perhaps now, though, today…on the second anniversary of the War...World War III...coming to a close…those burdens could vanish eternally; even Kiku and Arthur had not been able to help him wash away the sadness and shame.

_"You must remember, this is not your fault…But I suppose," Arthur had told him many months before, his accent and tone heavy with worry, and after a sigh, "You shall have to come to terms with all of this yourself, you young fool…" _

The remark at the ending of the statement was just a teasing stab, the Brit trying to cheer up his former colony anyway possible. Japan had been the same, even though he and Alfred had been on opposite sides during the conflict…

_"You were protecting the person you love. Why do you blame yourself for the death of-"_

_"Stop it…Just stop it…"_

_"Alfred…" Kiku reached down, picking up a box of traditional Japanese sweets, in bright, perfect colors, pinks and greens, with a few browns mixed in, "Take one, and please…cheer up."_

_"…If I had just aimed better-" America did comply, taking a pink-tinted candy, but he still heard the words tumbling from his mouth, while he chewed and bit the savory sweet slowly.  
_

_"If you had aimed any better, we would still be fighting, and you know it. Now…Come on…"_

Sure, he had saved the world, stopped a massive war that could have ended in tragedy…but at what costs?

Many of the countries did not blame him for the accidental shooting, but a great deal were testy around him, nervous, and yes, some did feel animosity towards Alfred, even two years later…

…Despite the good, hearts still had been broken…

…Despite the joy, there was still pain, still nations trying to recover, even to this day…

All of this should have never happened…

Nations should not have been split in a war…People in love should not have had to fight on opposite sides…

One man should not have had to die, ending a war…

But leaving his lover behind…

"…" The blonde American sighed, resting his head against the window pane; his driver had just spoken up, stating that there were still two hours until the limousine reached the cemetery…

Two hours to ponder, two hours to think in silence…

Two hours to wonder where they had all gone wrong…

OoOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

A/N: ^-^ This is just a prologue, ladies and gentlemen, and don't worry, I promise the chapters are going to be a great deal longer than this, like mine usually are!

So please, tell me what you think, if you are interested, and yes, as you can see, this is a flashback story. This is the ending of the story, in a way, and we are going back in time to when all occurred. There will be an epilogue at the ending, for there's more to the ending than just this little part.

And yes…someone has died. Right in the beginning! XD That's a new one for me. But please, stay tuned, and thank you so much for reading!


	2. Act One: Dreary Discourse Rises

A/N: NOW! Onto the official first chapter! 8D

Thank you to all who have read and reviewed ^^ Please enjoy!

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_No country can act wisely simultaneously in every part of the globe_

_at every moment of time._

_~Henry Kissinger_

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_**Act I: "**__**de fumo in flammam"**_

**"Out of the smoke, Into the Flame"**

…_**Two Years Ago….**_

Chattering, musings, hypothesizes…all were fairly dull in Arthur's mind as he sat near the head of the elongated oak table, drumming his fingers to a tapping tune; green eyes wandered over the other attendees of the World Summit, which since two-thousand-and-ten had become a world-wide, annual event.

England could see the other nations as they spoke to one-another, some having not seen each other in that twelve month span of time. Their reactions were so easy to enjoy, yes, they really were. If the Kirkland gentleman was anything, he was a reader of persons…The way Ivan would subtly glance towards Wang Yao, eyes alight with mischief …The laughter between Spain and Lovino Vargas was intoxicating, but also mysterious in a sense…Natalia's glares of jealousy towards her older brother's subtle flirtation with China were easily noticed by the astute, which included the light-blonde-haired-Englishmen….Yes, each and everyone of them was quite interesting.

Although, the most interesting of them was not here, as of yet…dear old Alfred…

Arthur felt himself pale at the mere thought of the younger nation; ever since that damned split….Did he miss Alfred? Oh, certainly not! Whoever would tell you that was selling you a lovely lie, yes indeed!

But…

The blonde felt his shoulders slump, as it felt that his beating red organ had just missed a beat…

Rage mixed with pride, hurt mixed with admiration, with each thought of the Jones boy…

_No…! Don't be such a fool…! Think of what that inconsiderate git has done…how he has treated you after all these years…! Thinking he is so great, so independent, so, so-_

The wide doors busted open with a clang, and dark-blonde, glasses-wearing America paraded through, grinning gallantly, as if he had just won that…Oh, what did those Americans call it? The 'Supper Bowl'…? 'Dinner Bowl'? Ah, whatever, it did not matter.

"G'morning, all!" Alfred proclaimed, his bright-blue eyes shining like polar stars, "Well, now that I'm here, let's get started, shall we? It wouldn't be the same without me starting everything off, right?" The young nation laughed, while some others echoed a pity chuckle, and Prussia just giving off a groan of annoyance.

_Oh, NO, it certainly would not be the same without you, you fool…! Keeping us waiting an entire HOUR for you to show up in your flashy helicopters…!_

"Now, first order of business, we're here to discuss how we can start cooling the globe, since global warming has become an increasing problem, I guess…That's what these reports say, so we should cover that…"

_Where have YOU been, you fool…?! It certainly is a problem…And your diction, my GOD…!! And do you even know what you are TALKING OF...?!  
_

"But we're mainly here to cover the partitions and money issues that have yet to be resolved, and we need to cover the economic crisis of the world," Alfred continued, his orbs glancing over paperwork that his Boss had been kind (and smart) enough to give him, "Some nations still need their dues, and that is the main business our bosses have asked us to address today, yes?"

Every single nation complied in agreement, nodding; money issues. Ugh, what a subject…Each nation hated it, but they needed the money…

About two years ago, there had been a small conflict concerning lands and small territories that had newly been established and-or discovered in Eastern and Western Europe, and some parts of Eastern Asia and even near the Americas; these lands included new islands, undiscovered up until that day, with some inhabitants in them, and even new lands on the borders of certain countries, lands that had yet to be claimed due to not being discovered earlier. And some land was just argued over between states; certain countries in those vicinities (names which Arthur dared not think of) were the arguing ones, and had been doing so for some time, but thankfully, the matter had been resolved in due time, only in the course of three months, barely any soldiers having been deployed. Promises were made that eventually the fighting countries, for resolving so nicely, would be given dues and money, and perhaps some of the warring land; now it was time to pay up.

"…Yes, it IS the matter of discussion, Alfred Jones, and many of us are impatient." Ludwig was seated at the other end of the table, arms crossed, his dark, sap-green uniform shining under the large conference room's halogen lights, "Look, we've been patient long enough haven't we? Two whole years! Those new lands we were able to discover, those countries that had those lands in them, the ones that were on borders, or near nations, why dammit, we've had TIME to think all of this over, it's time to resolve it!"

Other cries went up in agreement; the patience of many had worn thin…

"Er, Well…" Alfred reached down, grabbing his notepad, "T-The lands…well, the land that Germany and Japan found near Canada….That island…..We-As in America Canada's bosses-have decided that should go under Canada's leadership-"

"EXCUSE me?!"

"Ah!" Was it just England, or was Alfred becoming flustered at the shouting and cries?

"I have to say, I find that highly unfair…" Honda Kiku spoke quietly, "That small island has oil reserves in it, and it was unnamed and unclaimed when Ludwig and I stumbled upon it; we should have the right to claim it-"

"No way!" Matthew Williams, nearly always forgotten about, actually screamed the exclamation, "That is near MY country, I believe I have the right to it after all this time!"

"Who says!?" Germany bellowed, "And what about that small island near the UK, hmm?"

_Oh Lord, leave me OUT of this…_Arthur wailed in his brain, but before he could comment, Alfred Jones did it for him, straightening out his bomber-jacket out of nervous habit.

"Er…Well…From what I can recall…England's Boss state that they wished for that island to not be taken by anyone…th-that it should remain its own country with England helping it so often, isn't that right Arthur?"

The darker-blonde of the two men nodded, but that only caused a fury to erupt not from Germany, but from his brother,

"WHAT?" Prussia leapt out of his seat, it nearly toppling over, "But I found that island, ME! MY sailors! And we NEED colonies! All of us! The economy is horrid right now, we all need support, and if there is land out there that can give us that support-"

"You KNOW that we all have stopped colonizing long ago," Austria interrupted, "For humane reasons and for monetary reasons; why start it up again?"

"You know damn well this is an emergency, Roderich!" Ludwig snapped, "All of our nations are floundering right now! Last time I heard, YOUR unemployment rate was soaring!"

The spiffy dresser dared not to comment further, choosing to instead glower at the German man.

"B-But…Listen, come on guys," Alfred chirped in with a smile, "We're reasonable men and women, let's put this behind us, what's the point of fighting?"

"The POINT is that we need the land to get money to our PEOPLE! While you're busy stuffing your face with cheeseburgers and home-made movies, WE'RE trying to find fresh wurst to eat!" The strict Ludwig screamed, and that in turned caused Arthur to stand, shaking his head, and stating,

"Alright, see here, let's stop this. The idiot here is right, why are we fighting over this? We're all in this position, are we not? We're all a tad poor right now, but we can fix that in time, and it will work itself out eventually, correct? For, we all know that it has before."

"Dammit, England! We're tired of waiting! You're lucky, you're country is doing a lot better than most of ours!"

"He…He does have a point…" Ivan speaking up for the first time since the meeting had opened, "Lots of us are not well off, Arthur, so how about we just get some money for all of this mess from some of the richer nations, and we can put this behind us? Give some money to everyone who had discovered land that cannot be taken, and all shall be settled?"

"…" Arthur and Alfred exchanged glances, the Englishmen pushing his former colony to continue on, which the American did, replying with…"We…We can't."

"…"

There was a deathly silence in the room, tension reaching its full peak as nations from around the world realized the truth:

They would not be getting any money in return for not seizing the uncharted and making it colonies of the larger nations…

"…W-What was that? We certainly could not have heard you right-"

"You did, Japan, you did…"

"…" Kiku's eyes widened, "So, you are really stating that…for us giving up on seeking out to own those islands, those new border states, those satellite states, all of that land and all of those reserves, be it oil, agriculture, people, etcetera…we get nothing?"

Alfred nodded mutely.

"…" Japan leaned back in his seat, and Germany growled under his breath, "Can you at least tell us WHY we are getting nothing?!"

"….T-There's no MONEY to give you, Ludwig!" America proclaimed angrily, "You think we're made of money, us that aren't TOO bad off, but we're not!"

"OH, look at big old ALFRED, concocting up THAT sort of lie-"

"It's not a lie!"

"Yeah?! Well, you're country isn't as bad as Belarus, I know THAT, is it Natalia!?"

The woman nodded without uttering a syllable, turning glassy-with-wrath-sea-hued eyes right on Alfred F. Jones.

"Well, I'm SORRY to you all but we cannot GIVE you what you deserve! I didn't decide this, our bosses did!"

"Whose bosses!?" Gilbert probed venomously.

"…Mine, England's, Canada', China's, Austria's, Egypt's…The majority of us-"

"You mean any nation that didn't have a part in discovering a new land or island?" Hong Kong snapped, and even Korea opted for spouting out a "Yeah!"

"No! It's not like that at all!"

"Yes, yes, it is not-" Francis was just beginning to comment, when,

"Shut it, Frenchy, we don't need to hear anything from YOU! You're the one who is best off right now!" Ludwig screamed, throwing his hands up in the air, "You know what, I've had enough. I'm done, and so is my boss. He was expecting that we come back with some money or land, neither of which I am going to get apparently, since SOME nations are selfish-"

"WE TOLD YOU! We have NOTHING to GIVE!" Austria shouted, banging his fist on the table, "You are not the only country with problems in this age, Ludwig! It's twenty-twenty, we ALL have our problems right now! Granted, it is not as bad as it was in seventeen-seventy-six, but dammit, we ALL have issues! And it is YOU Sir, that should stop being selfish!" Violet eyes raged, boring into the startled German's own.

"OH? We're being selfish?" Ludwig laughed, running a hand through his blonde hair, "Well, that's just fine, then. Keep that little thought in mind later on! We're leaving. C'mon, Feliciano, Kiku, let's go!"

"B-But…Ludwig!" Northern Italy had not said a word as of yet, only showing expressions of horror and despair at the tennis-esque shouting matches.

"NO 'buts', let's GO!" The German pushed back from his seat, standing up with a hurry, and barging out of the room, Honda Kiku silently on his tail; solemnly, Feliciano nodded, and pushed himself off of his seat, minutely stating,

"Forgive me, I must leave." And with a bow of his head, the young man had left the room as well, not even coming back after his older brother had shouted for him to 'get his prissy ass back here'.

More chairs slid back, to America and Arthur's horror, including Prussia and Belarus, followed by Turkey, Korea, and Hong Kong.

"Guys, please!" Alfred's tone was pleading, "Can't we be REASONABLE?!"

"Reasonable?" Hong Kong spoke coldly as his hand touched the copper doorknob, "Since when are you ever reasonable? You always make everything into a chaotic state, you cannot lead, and neither can your boss, or else he would have tried to solve this! Now, good day." With a flourish, the young former-colony left.

The last to get up was, surprisingly, Russia, causing China to exclaim,

"Ivan! Where are you going, aru?"

But the gray-blonde-locked one just shook his head, "I…I am sorry, Wang. I just…." The man trailed off, not bothering to continue, and exited the room with his head bent low.

The meeting was officially ruined, but in such a surprising manner; normally, America just screwed things up by babbling nonsense about McDonalds, Hollywood, 'big bombs', planes, or other nonsensical ideas, but here, he had actually tried to be intelligent, and yet…it had started a chaotic meltdown between nations.

Eventually, the rest filed out, not enraged, but worried; what was going to happen? It could almost be stated that Germany had made some sort of threat that was to take place…'later on'. Ten minutes later, after a dreary silence, all whom remained were Francis, Alfred, Arthur, Wang, and a worried Elizabeta and a stressed Roderich.

"Well…that went smoothly? Hehe…" America tried to crack a joke, only earning glares from the remaining nations.

"Oh, can it, you git. This is just…"

"Horrid?"

"Yes, Francis, horrid, good term."

"…What do we do now?" Hungary spoke up, her voice on the verge of muteness, it was so hushed.

"We go home, and we wait until all of them calm down and come to their senses, what else can we do?" Austria spoke up, fixing his spectacles, while running a hand through his hair, the other rubbing Elizbeta's shoulder lightly.

"Agreed, dear Roderich, and my dear Hungary, wipe those tears away. Come, let us go…" France stood up gallantly, the duo whom he had addressed following suit, and all three paraded to the door, exiting without a word, save for the long-chestnut-haired woman's quite sobs; she hated shouting. She was all for fighting to defend someone, yes, but shouting? That had no place at a meeting table…and the whole aura of the Summit had made her upset! Normally, she would not have minded so much, but something in her heart told her…that the outcome of all this was to be horrible indeed.

"…I-I…I don't understand!" China spat suddenly, after the three had left, "Why did he do that, aru?!"

Arthur and Alfred once more glanced at one another, knowing full well that Wang was speaking of Ivan and his surprising departure from the table.

And both England and America knew of the relationship, the true relationship, between Russia and China; though both had tried to hide it, news of stolen kisses during times of peace had come out into and through the grape-vine, along with details of a romantic and loving relationship that had developed between the two men, and the two countries. In fact, it was not just Arthur Kirkland and America whom knew of it; practically the world did, word had spread quite fast (It did not help that Poland was a complete gossiper of any topic he could think of).

"Perhaps he is still out there?" Arthur tried to give the despondent Asian country some hope, the ash-brown-haired man holding his head, "You can go talk to him?"

"Y-You're right!" The Yao man stood with hurried speed, like that of a cheetah, "I WILL! And I shall go have a talk with him RIGHT now!" China nearly ran out of the room, slamming the door with a crashing bang, leaving, who else, but America and England alone.

Blue eyes, somber and strained, locked onto bright emerald ones; both knew of the persisting tension between one another, both knew of the hatred, the gall, the mad-hurt feelings that existed between one another…

But neither knew how the other really felt….Along with how they truly themselves felt…But perhaps this was time to start a conversation? They were alone, door closed, chaos already having occurred, so why not?

"…Nice job on making everyone leave." England spat.

…Perhaps THAT was not the best way to start a conversation…

OoOOoOOoOOOOOOOOoooOoo

Wang's soft slipper-shoes padded down the linoleum hallway, beautiful bay windows lining the left side of the hallway; the Summit was held in Genoa this year, and the beautiful meeting hall had been glistened to the fullest extremities. Sunlight danced off of China's brown locks as he searched around for his mostly-secretly lover-slash-crush; the majority of countries may have left the actual room where the Summit was to be held, but they had not left the giant hall, many of the countries chit-chatting in small groups over the latest events.

"AH! Waaaaang!"

The eldest Asian nation twitched both internally, and externally, a chocolate-colored eye moving, "…Yes, Im Yong?" Korea was smiling, grinning really, as if Christmas had just arrived; and due to the man having quite an obsession with China, it probably did seem as Christmas had arrived, any day Korea getting to see the elder one being like that of a holiday in his mind.

"Sooo, where ya headed off to?"

"…I am looking for Ivan..."

The younger Asian nation's face had a shadow cast over it at the mention of Russia's name, "Oh, I see…"

"…Look, Im Yong, I hope that…that what was discussed in there does not put an even bigger gorge between us…We-"

"We already have a gorge between us, Wang…" Korea pouted, crossing his arms, "All I have ever done is try to get your attention! And…And…You just ignore me! That's all I've ever wanted-"

"Im, my attention to you is already at a good amount, and what you are seeking in actuality is not what I am willing to give you."

"H-How do you know what I'm seeking?!"

"Frankly, you are obsessed with me." China stated bluntly, finally admitting his personal ideas and feelings on the situation, "And I am your friend, yes, but this has to stop, this...this obsession!"

"…W-Was leaving flowers on your doorstep too much?"

"YES! It certainly was, and Ivan had a fit! You are lucky he did not seek you out and harm you!"

"…" Soo hung his head, his eyes glued to the ground, "A-All I have ever wanted was for your feelings to be returned…I-I've wanted all of your attention for so long, and-"

"Im, I am not going to give you my all of my attention, and that is final." Wang spat, his annoyance rising to the surface, "We can be friends, nothing more, I hope you realize that."

"…Y-You barely notice me as a friend, either, Wang! You don't pay attention to me at all, and you never have!"

"Now, you know that is a lie," China contradicted, "I helped raise you, did I not?"

"Y-You should have ACTED like a brother to me! Love me, care about me, and you never did! All I have wanted was THAT, and you choose…you choose to give it to some-some drunken bastard-"

"Now, stop that!" Yao shouted, "I shall hear no negative talking of Ivan Braginski as long as he is not present to defend himself!"

Korea just shook his head, scowling, "All I wanted was for you to pay attention to my actions, praise me, CARE, LOVE-"

"You wanted me to love you like a lover, Im, and you and I both know I cannot do that!"

"I never said lover-"

"Oh, but you want that, though, you think about it, do you not?!" By this time, China's infuriation had doubled in amount, "You've sent me flowers and gifts, and beg for my attention, do anything to get it, you claim credit to machines and objects that are not your own, you do whatever you can! And you want me to love you like a lover, don't you?! Admit it, to yourself at least!!"

"…" The younger Asian nation remained mute, and when Im finally did raise his head, there was a menacing sheen to his orbs of sepia, "Well…I am sorry then, Wang Yao. I am sorry I have bothered you for so long over these years." Korea spat heavily, trying to mask any hurt emotions in his voice.

China sighed, continuing a moment later with, "Look…Forgive me for my outburst, Im Yong, it has just been a stressful day, and…and I would like us to be friends, really…start over….Maybe we can put all of this…these…these 'attention problems' behind us?"

Soo remained silent, only choosing to step closer to the over-four-thousand-years old nation, glaring heatedly, causing China to shiver minutely; even more so when Korea spoke up,

"Oh, don't worry…I'll gain your attention, eventually…" He paused, turning his voice into a hushed whisper, "Especially when I join Germany's side in the war that he is promising to start…"

Wang felt his breathing stop, for mere seconds at the ending of the utterance of those words…

_W-War…? No, they would not start a war over this, would they…?! H-He's just trying to scare me because I hurt his feelings…_

…_Right…?_

"Well, talk to ya later, Wang!" Korea chirped, smiling as brightly as he had before, strolling away while whistling a tune, a video-game theme song, and leaving through the front doors just a few moments later.

China placed a shaking hand over his heart; that confrontation had gone far from well, yes indeed…The elder nation had not handled at well at all, and he was to make sure to make it up to Korea in time…

…But those words…the word 'war'…

War, no…they would not stoop to war to gain what they, the depraved nations, had so longed for over the past few years…?

"F-Forget it, he is just trying to scare you…" Yao whispered to himself, exhaling sharply, and shaking his head, while a hand came up to fix his frazzled ponytail.

With that saying in mind, and that inevitable confrontation out of the way, China continued his search for Ivan…

OoOoOOoooooOoOoOooOOooOOOOooo

"..."

"..."

"…OH, will you stop that, you fool!" Arthur exclaimed; for the past five minutes, Alfred had done nothing but stare at him, the room becoming full of an awkward atmosphere.

America just snorted, annoying Arthur was always a treat, "Jeeze…what's bothering you?"

"Well, the fact that you told news that enraged multiple powerful nations is NOT bothering me at all!"

"Hey!" Alfred pouted, "I am just the messenger, and you know that."

"Indeed, but," Arthur countered, "As the head speaker at these Summits, you should be in charge!"

"Aw, come on, old man, it's not that bad, is it? Yeah, I was worried at first, Germany looked pissed-"

"Watch your language!"

"…As I was saying, Germany looked pissed enough to punch me, but hey, I'm sure he'll calm down eventually, right?"

"I highly doubt that." England huffed, "Honestly, do you realize whom we are dealing with here, cowboy?"

Alfred snorted, "You worry too much! Look, just give them some time, and they will be fine."

"Hmph, whatever you say, but I highly doubt it. And you did not handle that as well as you could have."

"…I wasn't prepared for that…I…I just-"

"No, you weren't; did your new boss not brief you on what to say? You just elected a new President-"

"Yeah, I was briefed, but-"

"But, what, you did not pay attention?"

"…" The man with the brighter blonde hair was mute, only glancing with icy eyes to the Brit, who in turn let out a sigh,

"Alfred…"

"…What?" The lone word was spat with anger, and Arthur mentally slapped himself for his outbursts, stating,

"Look…I…You…"

_My God, this is awkward…_

Ever since the split…things had never really been the same between Alfred and his former colony…

England could still recall not shooting Jones that one night, during the downpour…Realizing his little baby Alfred had grown up so fast, too fast…

"…What?" America probed again, gentler this time, "Arthur, just tell me what's on your mind, we're not that…we don't have that much animosity, do we?"

Jade eyes widened at the word 'animosity'; had someone TAUGHT Alfred that word, for surely, America was too obsessed with television and comics to learn five-syllable words like that, correct?!

"…Just…Just stop fooling around all the time, that's all!" Arthur spat, trying to negate the warmth that was bubbling in his chest and ears by speaking pessimistically, "I…I can't protect and take your side every single time!"

"…What are you saying?" There was an expression of curious questioning on the glasses-adorning one and with that eyebrow quirking up, England would nearly have called it…cute. But he could not, would not! His pride, dammit to Hell's lowest regions, would not have let him!

"…T-That you really need to start growing up more! Even after this fiasco, you had the nerve to crack a joke!"

Alfred gave a tiny, very tiny, grin, "I was just trying to lighten up the mood, c'mon…"

"Lighten the mood?! Was that really necessary?"

"Well, yes, I think it was," Alfred continued after a pause and a chuckle, "I think you've lost your sense of humor in your old age, England."

Arthur's face turned beet red, "I'll have you know, that I am I NOT that old, that I...I…SEE! Those kinds of comments, that is exactly what I am talking about!"

"C'mon Arthur, I'm just kidding around…" Alfred shrugged, "Where's the harm in that?"

"…" The older male stepped closer, "The HARM is that PEOPLE might be harmed! This…These types of situations do not deserve humor at the time, so you need to get off your derriere and…and…"

"And WHAT?" America could be classified as officially "snapped", his anger and perturbation reaching maximum level. "Well, you know what Arthur, I have a few things to say to you!"

OoOOoOOoOOOOOOOOoooOoo

"Are you sure we should do this?" Kiku asked his conversation partner, and Ludwig replied with a nod, stating coldly,

"I know that is what my boss wanted."

"But…war? Are we fully prepared for that? And after all, it was just land-"

"'Just land'? My, my, Japan, for someone who discovered a plethora of that land themselves, you seem quite keen on and quick to give it up…"

Kiku scowled, "On the contrary, Germany, but I am just not prone to sending my men out onto a field to fight for something that could be determined civilly."

"Neither am I, but I and my boss and my country have been patient long enough. There are a total of thirteen islands in question, discoverers ranging from myself and you, to Korea, Prussia, Hong Kong, Russia, Turkey, and Feliciano. A few of these countries are also seeking to claim land on the borders or land that has been uncharted in other countries or that was not claimed. We can be a strong force, if I do say so myself?"

"With just eight of us?"

"Oh, no, no no! There will be more of us, I am certain." Ludwig smiled, "We can bring others to our cause through great abilities of persuasion, that I am certain. And, we can promise them that we will share land, make compacts, agreements, whatever works best."

"…Ludwig, you know if we decide this, that…that…"

"I know…no going back-Ah! There he is! IVAN!" The German in his green army uniform bellowed loudly, catching the attention of the Russian whom was just exiting the men's restroom,

"Ah…Yes?"

"…You know what we are going to talk of, then? At this very moment?"

The gray-haired one frowned, "I...I believe so."

"Your boss wants…" Kiku lowered his voice, lest their conspiring be over-heard, "War as well?"

Ivan paused, and after a pregnant silence, he nodded.

"Very well then. Honda, Braginski. I shall be in contact with you shortly, after I return to Germany. Feliciano is also going to be on my side-"

"Because he has a crush on you? And vice versa?"

The German started at Kiku's words, and Ludwig cleared his throat, stopping the rising flush on his face, "It…It does not matter **why **he joins our side, just that he **does**."

"His brother will oppose all of this, though…" Ivan chipped in, but the European of the three of them just ran a hand through his blonde hair, stating,

"That shall be taken care of eventually. FELICIANO! Let's go! You're coming with me back to Germany! We have…many things to discuss." The scream was loud, and it started the Italian, whom had been playing with one of Prussia's chicks, one that the man had smuggled into the hall of course, and he was not at all pleased the younger one was talking to and petting the furry animal.

"Ah! Ve!" Feliciano was glancing between the chick and his booming friend, pouting at having to leave; but when Germany gave him a glare, the smaller nation hastily complied, "Ah…AH...COMING!" Northern Italy bounded over to his closest friend's side, "Germany, can we get some food on the way back to your home? Please? I'm starving…" The puppy-eyed look, in a God-given miracle, somehow was able to worm past Ludwig's defenses,

"Of course…" _Dammit, do NOT turn into a wimpy sissy NOW…especially with the others looking, _"Whatever you want."

A grin erupted onto the brunette's face, "YES!" And he took off down the hallway, dragging Ludwig behind him, "Hurry up, I want some great pasta before we go!"

"…" Once the two had left, Kiku sighed, turning to Ivan, "I shall be taking my leave then. I hope you are prepared for this, yes?"

The violet-orbed one nodded, "Yes. Normally I would be against this, but in times like these…"

"Yes, I know the feeling. I shall be speaking to Hong Kong and Korea before I leave, and we shall all stay in contact up until the declaration point. Have a good day." The Japanese man bowed, and exited the hall, turning towards the Southern exit.

The remaining Russian was about to leave, running a hand through his hair, when a soft voice called out to him,

"…I-Ivan?"

Rapidly spinning around, Ivan came face-to-face with the man he, though he had not said it yet, loved…Wang.

"…W-Wang? What…what were you doing back there?" The Chinese man had been hidden around the corner of the wall, not even two feet away from where Russia and his previous entourage had been standing.

_And…more importantly, how much did you hear…?_

China pouted, "D-Did…I hear all of that correctly? …W-War?"

Ivan paled, "Wang, I can explain-"

"Ivan, if you need anything, I'll be willing to give it to you! I have spare money, clothes, food, whatever you need, aru, I-"

"Shh…" Braginski stepped closer, placing hands on his Wang's shoulders, "Easy, easy…But no, I don't want you to give me anything."

"W-Why not?! Please, Ivan, this…this really isn't worth it, is it?!"

Russia smiled a beam that sadly, was a tad creepy and demonic, although it tried to be sweet; there was an edge of cunningness to it,

"Yes, it is. Because you agree that I deserve what I earned, yes?"

"Y-Yeah, but…"

"…I know you're not going to support my decision on this, are you?"

"…I…" Yao paused, "I just…!!"

Before he could utter another word, soft lips touched China's forehead, silencing off any protests he had in mind; Ivan did not remove himself from the other's body for some time, resting soft, warm clouds of pink against pale skin, while strong hands rested on Wang's arms, and a voice soon was whispering,

"Wang…I need to do what is best for my people, not myself. I am perfectly content as a person, as a single unit, but as a whole…I am suffering. People need me…They need me to look out for them and their best interests…And if going to fight for what my people need is what I need to do…I shall do it. It is the most proper thing I could do for them, and you and I both know it."

"…" China did not reply immediately, thinking over his words carefully, "But…I need you too, aru…"

Ivan chuckled, "I know, I know that…But…"

"And if you declare war on America, England, any of them-…Y-You'll have to fight me too, do you realize that?!"

"…I do." The gray-haired one muttered softly, trying to have an aura of neutrality, with little emotion.

"And that does not bother you at all!? That I am going to be on their side because A), I find this to be a preposterous idea, B), because I have allegiance to them, and C) B-Because…Because…I-I just find this wrong! And I find it wrong that you are going after them! They SAID that they have nothing to give, and I barely have any to give, but if it means keeping you out of this mess, then I'll gladly give you whatever you need!"

"…" Ivan sighed, "I realize all of that, Wang, but…but I have made my decision, I am sorry."

"…S-So am I…"

Russia bit his lower lip at the comment, something in his heart tugging at him further; he had to say it eventually, did he not? He had to tell Wang how he thought of him so much, that he had promised himself that he would never lay a hand on him, that he found his laugh the most adorable laugh in the world, that his smarts were just as charming as his smile, that over the past nine months they had been seeing one another that Ivan feared any sort of separation, that…that…

That Ivan Braginski was in love with him…

"W-Wang, I-!!" But before Ivan could get a word in edge-wise, the brown-ashen haired one shoved him away, shaking his head,

"How could you do this? Why? 'For the good of your people'? For MOTHER RUSSIA? Is that it, Ivan? Is that all that matters to you, aru?"

"NO! Please, Wang, I am sorry, this oncoming war is not personal against you-"

"LIE! It IS going to be personal against me, because I am going to be on the opposite side since I am totally against it-"

"Y-You could stay out of it?!" Ivan recognized the desperation in his voice; he feared Wang entering, not just because he feared the Chinese man getting injured, but fighting…fighting in a war against the man he loved…In a MAJOR war, from the way Germany had been talking…new weaponry and everything…

"NO! You know my conscience would not allow that!" Wang pleaded, "PLEASE, ARU!"

"…I-I can't…I have to do this, for-for…"

"For your country, yeah, I've heard that before. Well, for the sake of my people, maybe I should not be near you for awhile…And I should join on the side of your enemies. Because who knows, you really might come after ME, next!"

"You know I'd never hurt you! A-And stay away?" Ivan felt his vital, ruby organ sink, "Please, Wang, I…I…"

But the immortal nation just shook his head, "No, don't make excuses, Ivan. I did not want to believe that the possibility of a war was real, Korea let it slip to me earlier, but I can see now that it really is…So this is where I take my leave of you."

Holding back tears, Wang brushed right past Ivan, thrusting Russia aside, giving him a tearful glare, and as he walked down the hall, China briskly shoved away France and Hungary, whom had heard the shouting from nearby, but, evidentially, failed to comfort the hurt Asian nation, and who refused their assistance.

Ivan felt his breathing labored as he leaned back against the nearest wall, gazing upward at the glass ceiling of the building, violet eyes staring absently at the sun's rays, not discerning anything in particular

"…Wang…" The name was a soft whisper, and the Russian male felt something in his heart breaking, shattering…to tiny pieces…

_He…He'll never forgive me for this…_

…_I-I love him so much, though…H-He's the only I've ever felt this way towards…There's been other girls, other guys, as small dates, but…nothing like what I feel for him…_

Ivan recalled a time when he and Wang Yao had been relaxing, a time of peace, serenity…They had discovered a small field of grass in Russia, in the early springtime, about two months ago; it was April then, right after a rain storm…beautiful blue sky, a dimming rainbow, under a shaded oak...A few wildflowers…golden…white…some bluebells…

_"Wow, aru! It's so…so beautiful, Ivan…"_

_"Mm, I come out here to think once and a while…"_

_Wang scooted closer to Russia, laying his head on the more northern country's shoulder, "I can tell why, it's so lovely…"_

_"One day, you know where I'm going to take you?" Ivan quipped, and Wang shook his head, _

_"The place in the world where the best and most beautiful sunflowers grow…"_

_"Really?!" Wang's brown eyes became a beacon of joy, beaming straight into Ivan's purple orbs,_

_"Of course, why wouldn't I? We can always build a house there, so we can visit and stay whenever we want…"_

_"You'll share your dream with me!?"_

_"Yes…But only you, keep that in mind, I don't want any tag-alongs!"_

_Wang laughed, "No, of course not, aru! Just us…"_

_"Us…And the flowers…" Russia whispered, giving China's cheek as kiss as swift hands from the cold regions of the north placed a flower in the dark-haired one's locks…_

…

Ivan now doubted that dream was to come true, the imprint of Wang's glare staining his mind for all eternity; sighing deeply, Russia turned, walking swiftly down the hall, stares from the other countries not meaning a thing, fixing his scarf and tan coat, and with a white glove on the doorknob, he left the building as fast as he could, hoping to chase away guilt, run away from it like a track star…

…He was to fail miserably…

OoOoOOOOoOOOoooOOooOOOooo

**Eight O' Clock**

OoOOoooOoooooOOOOOOOOOOOOOoOoooO

England had not left the room for many hours, finally getting strength enough to leave the holding-place of the World Summit….And he felt miserable…

"…Alfred…" Arthur shook his head, the hands in his pockets turning into fists, as he strolled towards the limousine he had called to the building less than twenty minutes ago…

The American's words still rang in his head, hours after the shouting had occurred…

…

_"Well, go on then, say whatever you have to say!"_

_"FINE! First off, I hate you!"_

_"…" That sentence had stunned England into pure silence._

_"All I have ever done is tried to show how strong I am to you, prove to you that I could be on my own; that was the whole reason I declared Independence! Not only was I sick of you breathing down my neck, with all those laws and taxes and Acts, but I wanted to be on my own, I wanted to grow up!"_

_"…Er-"_

_"And all you do is tear me down! Look, if you hate me, you can say so right now, or whenever, and stop playing this…this game!"_

_"…I-"_

_"You just…GOD, Arthur, I don't get you! And I'm sorry I don't live up well enough to what you want me to be!"_

_"I-I never said that…" England murmured, but the remark went unheard._

_"Okay, you know…maybe I don't hate YOU, but…I hate what you do to me! You just…just tear me down! I never do well enough for you, though I want to please you! I'm sorry I'm a jokester, that I love to have fun, that I'm young and adventurous and that I want to be a HERO! That's who I am, I'm sorry that's never pleased you!"_

_"…I…" Arthur wanted to say that he WAS proud of America, that he had been proud of him so much, for so long, but he had never said that enough…had he only said it twice? Three times? All England knew was that it was less that five times._

_"I'm SORRY, how about that?! Can I say that enough?! I'm sorry I didn't handle today well enough for you, for everything, and you know what, that's fine. I'll stop pleasing you, I'll leave you alone. We separated anyways, right?"_

_"…" Arthur wanted to scream NO, DON'T stop trying to please me, DON'T forget about me, I lost you ONCE, I can't lose you again; but his throat had closed up in awe, in desperation, and was not opening._

_"I just…I don't know what to do anymore, Arthur." Alfred sighed, hurt washed on his face, "I know you…you have never really cared for me since the split, anyways…"_

_Emerald eyes were on the verge of misting over…Arthur wanted to deny it all, say the truth…_

_"Look, I…Just, goodbye. And you don't have to worry about me anymore, alright? I'll…I'll forget all…all of that stuff…and just move on? How's that…And you don't have to keep protecting me, since…I know you really don't want to…"  
_

_"Alfred, wait, please!" Finally, the darker-blonde's voice resurrected, and though he cried out, America left the room, slamming the door behind him, a solemn scowl on his face…_

…

Arthur entered the limo silently, not even glancing at the driver, who spoke up with,

"Home, Mister Kirkland?"

Arthur nodded as the car started up, and rested his head against the cold glass of the windowpane, watching as the Italian countryside zoomed by, olive eyes not locking onto any particular object for a long period of time.

…His heart was hurting, hence it being hard to concentrate…Alfred F. Jones' words had stung worse than a thousand wasps…

"…I don't hate you…" Arthur whispered to himself, "N-Never have, never will, you git…"

"Sir?" The driver caught his words, icy blue eyes turning to the rear-view mirror to talk to his Master, "Mister Kirkland, do you need a Kleenex? Your eyes…"

Arthur swallowed the lump in his throat, refusing to cry in front of another person, especially over America, that damn, incompetent bastard…

_Why…Why do you make me so damn emotional…?!_

_Why do you make me…make me…_

_Feel so much for you…?_

_So much…_

…_Love…_

The limousine drove on, into the night, towards a plane to take Arthur Kirkland home…

But his sanity would not be going with him…

That was left back in the building…sobbing…dying…

All because of Alfred Jones…

But really, had not Arthur seen this coming…?

For…

It was only a matter of time before he realized his heart permanently belong to America…

And that time had finally come…

OoOOOoOoOoOOOooOOOoOoOOOoooOOo

A/N: Teehee! ^^ I told you these chapters were going to be long!!

Wow, lots of drama, and you can see where we are going to be when it comes to the war ;D

Thanks so much for reading and for all the reviews and alerts and favs I have gotten on this just-beginning story! :D I shall be updating soon!_  
_


	3. We're All A Tad Blind

A/N: YAY! Time for another update! : D

Thanks go out to all who reviewed and read, and faved and alerted this story last time, I'm glad you are enjoying it! ^^ Now, we continue on!

Song Inspiration:

"A Little Piece of Heaven" - Avenged Sevenfold

"Reverse This Curse" - Escape the Fate

"When You're Evil" - Voltaire

"Schizophrenic Conversations" - Staind

"Animal I Have Become" - Three Days Grace

"Fall For You" - Secondhand Serenade and "First Love" - Maccabees (Both Especially inspired the ending of this chapter)

_OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO_

_What this planet needs is more mistletoe and less missile-talk._

_~Author Unknown_

_OooooooOooooooOOOooooOOoOOOoOOOoOOooOOOoOOOooOOooOOooOOoo_

_**Berlin, Germany, Two Days after the World Summit…Ludwig's House, the Office….**_

"Now, are we all in agreement, then?"

Ludwig was ecstatic, and it was extremely obvious; it was not as if that grin was hiding anything, in all perfect honesty.

All eight men had been debating for the past two days on how the declaration of war was going to take place; each one of them, Kiku, Hong Kong, Ludwig, Im Yong, Turkey, Gilbert, Feliciano, and Ivan had brought up great points on why (and in Feliciano's case, why this was not) this was a good idea. But, Northern Italy had gone along with the others (Prussia's glares were so, so convincing), though he kept objecting due to his impeccable knowledge, the fact that he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that Romano would be furious. But, the seven others shrugged the feelings away, stating, or, more along the lines of Gilbert stating,

"War is war, kid. Get over it."

And now, the declaration had been formally written up, each country about to sign, as they read over the countries with whom they were to fight against; Kiku listed them off quietly,

"America, no surprise there…Austria…Spain…Hungary…Egypt…Canada…Greece…" Japan paused when he saw Sadiq's very tan skin pale slightly at the mention of the other nation, but continued on a moment later, "Sweden, oh, that's interesting, why him again?"

"He has something I want…" Hong Kong grounded out, "And I plan to take it."

"Hmm…You mean that island in the Gulf of Bothnia?"

The other Asian country just nodded his head slowly, eyes boring into Japan's own, "Why, yes, that is exactly it, Kiku…If you wish, we can talk of it later? Maybe over some nice wine or sake?" There was a slight smirk on the young male's lips, his orbs holding a mystical hue.

Kiku bit his lip, blinking…He was sure that was subtle flirtation…But was not positive one hundred percent, "Perhaps…Moving on, there is also France, Denmark…Lichtenstein?"

"Don't worry about her, we can invade there surely." Germany piped up confidently, causing Japan to ask,

"But what about Switzerland? The girl is still under his care, and so is the country-"

"I can HANDLE it." Ludwig's tone was firm, "Leave Switzerland to me."

"But-"

"Honda, have some confidence in me. I know what I'm doing."

"DO you, brother?" Prussia smirked, "Vash is a powerful man, he might-"

"Gilbert…"

"I'm just saying, it was MY idea to invade Lichtenstein. I need the available land there, and I don't want you messing it up because you cannot take out one of her allies."

The blonde German growled lowly, "I can handle it; he's just her brother, after all, right? MOVING ON, we are also going to invade…er…" Ludwig paused, to grab the declaration and read it over, "Ah, and China. That is all for now."

"…"

The room remained silent as all eyes turned onto Russia, who was looking at no particular object; the man was dazed, having heavy bags under his eyelids, from a lack of sleep. Korea, who was seated right next to the man at the large meeting table, noticed a hint of vodka on the man's breath and clothing.

"…What?!" Ivan snapped as seven other pairs of eyes were locked onto him, "S'not like I have a problem with it!"

"…Ivan…" Feliciano, the classic Italian romantic spoke up, "Look, maybe you should go lie down, think for awhile…I mean, you are dating the man-"

"WHO TOLD YOU!?" Ivan stood up so fast, his chair came clashing down with a bang, "I…I…" A drunken slur of garbles was escaping the gray-haired one's lips, "I don't know what you're talking about-"

"So, you're drunk at ten in the morning for no reason?" Hong Kong snorted, Turkey laughing oh-so-softly to himself.

"…T-To hell with him, I don't care…He isn't going to stay out of it, he found out what we're doing anyways, and he said that if we went to war, he wasn't going to be on my side…So do what you want, I don't care anymore."

"But…don't you love him?" Northern Italy asked softly, all eyes turning onto the brunette, including Ivan's light violet ones; Russia's gaze held, for just a few seconds, a glimmer of wailing sadness, it vanishing all too quickly into a sheen of serious rage, and he replied with,

"Oh? Who said that?" The great wintry country could barely stand up, "Look…Maybe I should go lie down…Ludwig…I'll…uh…I'll be on your c-couch…" Ivan walked as best as he could to the office room's door, stumbling only once, and the tired man threw open the door, nearly falling on his posterior at the move, but somehow was able to maintain his balance as he walked down the hall, and out of the sight of the other nations.

"Well…He's a sad mess." Korea spoke up next, "We're going to have to get him in better shape eventually, you know."

"Don't worry about that," Ludwig answered, "He'll wake up eventually. Perhaps we can even talk him into invading China himself."

"WHY would he do that?"

"Well, think about it. He is obviously in love with Wang Yao, and if he invades the nation himself, he could control his own actions, take it as far as he could, while still winning."

"Hmm…That may work…" Kiku added his commentary, "Now, I have a question. Why are we not invading the United Kingdom?"

"England? Simple, there's no reason to."

"WHAT?" Prussia turned to his brother, "Ludwig, I WANT that island that is near that damn country!"

"Easy, brother, you shall have it. Don't you remember what Alfred Jones said? England's boss is going to just have that island be its own nation, and we'll just invade it. Simple as that, and take it."

"And what if England decides to step in and stop us, what then?" Japan probed.

"England will not want to stop us. Do you remember how they acted in the last conflict between Iraq and India in twenty-twelve? They became neutral, and promised they would stay that way for as long as they had to. And we have no reason to invade the United Kingdom if we can just have Prussia take that island that he wants."

"But we're invading America, Germany," Turkey was going to add his say, "And you know how those two are…"

"You mean enemies? They hate each other, Sadiq; I am not sure what you are speaking of."

"I do not think it is just hatred that is between those two men; really…Same with those two countries as a whole…Have you seen the way Alfred and Arthur Kirkland behave?"

"Well, we must not be speaking of the same Arthur, Turkey, for I have seen nothing but glares and hard cold tension between the two of them." Sadiq snorted at the comment, shaking his head, as if he knew all the answers, and fiddled with his white mask…Oh, he knew the truth; that hatred did not always mean true, unfiltered hate towards one another…He knew because he was experiencing it himself, with a certain dark-haired nation…

"Alright, enough talk. We either are ready to fight, or we are not. Now, sign the declaration."

"What about Ivan, doesn't he need to sign it too?" Japan questioned, and Germany nodded in reply,

"I shall give it to him to sign after all of you have done so."

The official document was passed around the table, the glaring rays of the sun streaming down upon it from the windows, the glass panes decorating all sides of the office. Ludwig signed his name with dexterity and stood, being the last of the men in the room to sign it, and exited the large space.

He found Ivan exactly where the man said he would be: sprawled on the couch, accompanied by a brown vodka bottle in his hand, an arm closed over his once-happily-shining eyes.

"Here, sign this." Ludwig shoved the paper in the silent one's face, and Russia only groaned, causing Germany to state, "You know you have to."

"…Why?"

"You are owed things, and you know it."

"Yao hates me."

"….Look, maybe he doesn't? This…this is just war-"

"It's NOT just war, and it NEVER is just war!" Ivan bolted up into a sitting position, glaring at the German, "Especially when I KNOW I am going to have to be fighting him."

"…You're so mad at yourself, yet you show no rage towards him? I find that odd; it is like you said, he **could** have stayed out of this, he **could** have joined **your** side."

Ivan frowned, tossing the liquor bottle to the floor, the sturdy material not breaking, but just clanging to the floor instead, "I…I don't know, I just cannot blame him."

"Love is just…I don't know, maybe that is a side-effect?"

"What do you mean, you 'don't know'?" Russia queried, "What about Feliciano-"

"SHH! Stop that!" Ludwig flushed a dark hue, and Ivan snorted, stating in a drunken, sing-song voice,

"Someone is hiding his feelings."

"…I…I have no idea what you're talking about." The strict man stood more ram-rod than he had mere seconds ago, "We have nothing going on between us, we are in a professional business relationship."

Violet eyes rolled in a mocking manner, and the gray-haired one chuckled, "Ludwig, I may be fairly out of my mind at the moment due to my alcohol intake, but I KNOW when I am one-hundred percent right."

"…You're just too wasted, Ivan Braginski. Now, sign this?"

Russia blinked at the declaration of war that was still in Ludwig's hand, and Ivan grabbed the paper with a tipsy grip, "…Pen?"

Ludwig reached into the pocket of his navy-green uniform, and took out a felt-tip pen, tossing it onto the Braginski's lap; slowly, Ivan signed his name, and stated 'Russia' as well, just how the other men had placed their names and countries.

"Well, it's legible, thank God." Germany commented when he received the paper back from the drunken male, "Look, once we get everything we want, everything will be…fine again."

"…Will it? You know you're initiating World War Three here, Ludwig."

"I do indeed."

"Over…l-land might I add."

"Yes…Your point?"

"Nothing, I just…I always pictured the world going to war once more over something…more important."

"Time are changing, Ivan," Ludwig commented as he headed back towards his office, stopping in the living room's doorway to make a closing statement to his ally, "We need this, and it is owed to us. Our people need us, now is not a time for us to be selfish. Think on that, remember that, when we get ready for this war." With that, Germany exited the room, leaving Ivan to his thoughts and miserable auras.

And miserable was the best word….At some moments, Russia could still taste China's lips on his, those first early days when he had approached him in hopes of something that would be gratifying, a relationship that would be more than just friendship…

Their first meeting, their first encounter where Ivan had his idea…was…interesting…

_"…"_

_"What…What are you…W-Why are you staring at me like that, aru!?" Yao closed his eyes, backing up; Wang had suddenly felt very uncomfortable due to Russia's enigmatic stare; and out here, in this open field, where they had promised to meet one another (Ivan stating it was 'official business')…Ah, it was just so odd for the immortal man!_

_"…I want…"_

_"…Y-Yes?" Russia had trailed off, choosing to be silent, yet step closer to Yao._

_"…You to become one with Mother Russia…" _

_"…WHAT?!" The creepy grin was too much for the Wang male, and he stumbled back, falling onto his posterior, "W-What on earth are you speaking of, Ivan!? W-Was that a pickup line, or were you really talking about absorbing my country, aru?!"_

_"Er…I'm sorry…" Ivan spoke calmly, "That came out wrong…"_

_"Oh?! What did you mean INSTEAD?!"_

_"…I want you to become one with ME…"_

_Yao screamed in frustration, "And I know THAT was a pick-up line, right?!"_

_Russia nodded silently, causing China to groan, _

_"Look, I don't get you! First, you say that you want to be one of my dearest friends, then you ignore me for some time, and NOW, you're HITTING on me?! What is with you, aru?!"_

_"…I had to stay away from you to sort out my feelings." It was true; it had been nearly two months since the two men had any contact whatsoever._

_"OH, and what feelings were-Mmm…"_

_China never finished his statement, Ivan having jumped on top of him, cutting off his biting remark with soft lips, blossoming into a succulent first kiss,_

_"…You were saying?" The gray-white haired one whispered, a gloved hand caressing Wang's blushing cheek._

_"…So…You were…uh…talking about…" He was babbling, and dear God, it was adorable._

_"Shh…Yao…"_

_"Hmm?"_

_"Can I just do that again?"_

_"E-Eh…K-Kiss me?" _

_Ivan nodded without a sound._

_"W-Why, aru?"_

_"…Because."_

_China furrowed his brow in contemplation and frustration, "Can you give me a better reason that that?"_

_"…I could, but I…um…I am not always that sentimental?"_

_"Try, Ivan."_

_"…" Russia paused, still lying on the other while running a hand through his fair, gray hair, "I…I just…I like you a lot, alright?"_

_"…A lot as in-"_

_"YES, Yao, as in that. As in…I just…I want…" The normally stoic and sometimes-er, fairly often-cruel man was finding the words extremely thorny to speak, as if they were stuck in his throat. _

_"…" Wang grinned unexpectedly, "Okay, Ivan, I get it…And you can do it again."_

_"…Do what?"_

_"YOU KNOW!" Dark chocolate eyes rolled sarcastically, "What you just requested? What you just asked me?"_

_"…I don't remember…"_

_China groaned; that vodka intake must be damaging the poor lad's memory, or perhaps his flustered moment had shut off his brain? Whatever the case, Yao did not waste another precious moment, and he leaned upwards, having his lips collide with Braginski's, Russia gasping in awe, but replying with his lips, kissing back fervently, hands clutching at Yao's traditional Chinese robe, but the wintry nation moved a hand northward, letting it hold midnight tresses, and untie them from the ponytail Yao had placed them in…_

There was an incessant poking in Ivan's side, yet he dared not open his eyes; it would make the dream disappear, the fantasies would turn back to the deathly reality Russia was trying to run from.

"Brother…Brother, open your eyes…"

Violet eyes flickered open, and Braginski nearly screamed when Natalia was unveiled to him, standing on the side of the couch, staring at him with her cold eyes as always; Ivan did not hate the woman, but she was indeed frightful. Her aura was always cold, colder than Belarusian and Russian winter nights.

"W-What do you want?"

"…You're pitiful right now, Ivan."

Russia frowned, "Natalia, I do not need your criticism at the moment."

"Criticism? I am merely trying to show you what you are acting as, and that would be a child."

"Child!?" The tipsy man nearly bellowed the lone word.

"…" The Arlovskaya woman remained mute, only choosing to fix her white bow, "Ivan, get over it. Please. For our sake."

"**Our** sake?"

"Yes, our sake. For I am joining this war on your side." Cold sea-hued eyes bored into the older male's, Ivan blinking in shock at the statement.

"No, Natalia, I do not want you to get involved in this. This is too dangerous, and-"

"And Belarus is suffering. My people are dying on the vine, and if you are joining, I shall fight beside you."

"…Is this because of your infatu-"

"My LOVE, yes, because I love you so much, dear brother." Natalia interrupted sternly, "Anyone who really cares about you should fight alongside you, not against you, as China shall be doing."

The Braginski boy shivered at the younger human's words; he felt far from love for Natalia, though he did care about her, just not in the way she wished for. The girl could be awfully disturbing at great points in time, and Ivan was becoming more wary of her as the days went on.

"Ivan, wake up. This is time to act, not sob. Love does not matter, unless it is on one side of the war."

"Are you saying…I cannot love Yao because he is on the other side?"

The blonde woman hesitated at first, then replying with, "Yes."

"You're crazy!" Russia shot up from the couch, wobbling on his feet, one hand grasping the arm of the couch, the other wavering through his gray-white locks of silken hair.

"…Ivan, you are being pitiful, dear brother." Natalia grasped the elder's arm gently, "And you must realize the truth eventually, but I shall not push it. But I am correct about myself joining the war. I shall fight on your side, as I always will and always have…"

_And my being your ally will show you whom you should really love, who you should really be with forever…_

Russia bit his lips, shaking his head, "…I-I'll fight, then…But…" He shook his head again, "I…I can't…I…I won't-"

"You're babbling nonsense; you're inebriated state is clouding your thoughts. Go, rest, and we shall talk later. And plan our victory."

Ivan would have replied, but instead he chose to grasp his head, walking unsteadily towards a spare bedroom that was present in Ludwig's house; he was indeed too intoxicated to think, to speak, but he was still stable enough to dream…The male just hoped that his dreams were not to be haunted by Wang…

Belarus watched her brother exit the room, a fire of desire and war raging in her heart; how dare that bastard Yao cause her brother to pine away like a sobbing fool! Though, she knew by tomorrow her Ivan would come around, he would still be sad deep down, it would take days for him to recover, if that at all. Oh, no, China would pay, she would see to it, and now that she was going to fight, she would make sure of it…so that her people would get what they deserved, but also herself: She would get her brother Ivan's heart. The one item she had always longed for…

But first…Natalia had to pay her dear friend Belgium a visit…

She would have to bring her nice, pretty knife though…

Just in case there were any altercations…

…Or hesitations…

OoOOOooOOOOOOOOOOOOOoOOoO

**Austria's Home- One Day After The Declaration**

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Roderich was not pleased, not in the least; this was a war that could have been prevented, and yet, it was coming, and he was a target. And by Germany, no less! And Prussia! Where were the ties that had bound them for so long?

Elizabeta entered his study, speaking softly, "They're here, the others."

Austria nodded, getting up from the piano-stand; right now, music was not even calming his nerves. He had messed up on his favorite Beethoven and Chopin pieces, and had outwardly sworn at the moves.

"Thank you, Hungary."

"…Roderich-"

"Don't…Don't say it. I know you're worried. But may I ask why? You were not this tense last time around, during the last war."

The brunette woman hesitated, "I just…I'll fight, don't doubt that!" Elizabeta took on a firm expression, but as instantly as it had appeared, it vanished and melted away into a puddle of worry, "I'm just…scared this time, Roderich."

"…I know. So am I." The male placed a gentle hand on the woman's shoulder, "But we're in this together, I don't want you to forget that, okay?"

Hungary nodded, "Thank you, I don't know what I'd do if you weren't here, seriously."

"Haha, you wouldn't be looking after me? And I would be a tad worse off, wouldn't I?"

The woman smirked, "Yes, that's true. And you'd never get by if I was not here. And you'd miss me terribly!"

"Indeed…" The young male sighed, "Why they are declaring this upon me I have not a clue, they know of Austria's Declaration of Neutrality…"

Elizabeta shrugged, "Perhaps…they didn't think of it?"

Roderich scowled, "Why they want to get involved with me, I have not a clue, but that's fine, I shall fight, despite myself not wanting to. I have to, anyway; I promised you, didn't I?" The man's frown blossomed into a smile, "After all, if they are coming after both of us, it will be necessary for both of us to be there, yes? To protect one another."

Hungary returned the expression on Austria's face, "Roderich…That promise was a long time ago, I can take care of myself!" She exclaimed with a chuckle, "Besides, if you really want to stay out of this…"

"No, I can't. And my boss realizes this now. Besides, we signed that declaration over sixty-five years ago…It was good while it lasted."

"Roderich-"

"Now, hush. We have other matters at hand, and I shall fight if they come after you, and the others. I am hoping this blows over though-"

"You know that isn't going to happen, Roderich." Elizabeta's eyes became clouded with anxiety.

"…Yes. But, just stay strong, alright? Just as you always are." With a smile, Austria placed a sweet kiss on the dame's forehead, gripping her shoulder in a gentle manner, and exited the room, heading towards the front living room, his gait strong, his back ram-rod.

"…" The female stayed behind, watching Austria's retreating back, and sighed once more to herself; that pit in her stomach was growing, and she feared this would not end well, especially for the man she loved so, so much…"Be careful, Roderich…" Was the quiet whisper to herself.

Hungary knew she could go and talk with the others, but…fears were holding her back, fears dammit! Since when had she been this scared?!

_Grr, toughen up, girl…! Father would be furious if he saw you acting like this, so toughen up like the solider you are…!_

Fixing her green uniform, and brushing off invisible microns of dust, the woman strolled into the living room, and immediately, all eyes were upon her.

"Ah…Madame Elizabeta!" Francis was the first to greet her, as always, "Come, sit next to me-"

"DON'T even try it, you flirtatious coot!"

"Aww, Roderich…" France pout dipped further when Austria ran to get a chair for his girlfriend, nodding to her, a silent order to sit.

"Now that we're all present, we can begin this small meeting; as you know," Roderich continued, "Each one of us has had war declared upon, and we must realize that now there is no turning back. We…We must stand up and fight-"

"HERE HERE!"

"…Alfred, sit down."

"…" America grumbled under his breath, crossing his arms as he resumed his seat, making only sweet Lichtenstein give a giggle.

"Anyways, as I was stating before I was so nicely interrupted-OH, don't you stick your tongue out at me, Mr. Hero!"

Alfred just scowled, stating, "Go on…"

"Wow, I think America woke up on the wrong side of the bed today…" Sweden quipped, Finland nodding in agreement.

"HEY!"

"All of you knock it off!" Matthew Williams shouted, clutching Kumajirou to his body, the polar bear wiggling, trying to get comfortable, "This fighting isn't going to help us."

Austria strolled over to America, gripping his arm tightly, the young nation looking as if he was ready to jump Berwald at any second, "Now silent, all of you. Fighting like this isn't going to help us-"

"I just SAID THAT!"

"…You did?" Roderich gave Matthew a perplexed glance, Canada only groaning with a shake of his head, "Nevertheless, we need to put any animosities we have between us away for the time being. We cannot have our own issues be distractions, we need to think of the big picture. And I already see we have a few allies here with us?"

Finland, Lithuania and Poland raised their hands, smiling, and Demark chuckled towards Tino,

"Well of course Berwald's wife would be here-"

"Oh COME ON! Don't start that again-" Finland was already blushing at the teasing.

"Now the only question is whether Wifey can fight…"

"Demark…" Austria's tone was no-nonsense, and the Nordic nation pouted pitifully,

"What? Can't a guy have some fun?"

"That's what I always say-OW!" America screeched, "Francis, what the hell-"

"You were being annoying."

"You didn't have to hit me!"

"Yes, yes I did."

"People, PLEASE! Stop all of this, this INSTANT!" Yao wailed, "It isn't helping us, so just…just shut up!"

The normally calm China's outburst stunned every nation in the building, and all returned to a quiet state of muteness.

"He...He's right, you know." It was actually the normally silent Egypt who dared to speak up, "We…What are we going to do?"

"What else? Fight!" Denmark pumped his fist in the air, "Dammit, if they want a war, they can come and get it!"

"We don't have the true strength to fight, though!" Sweet little Lichtenstein, also known as Lili, spoke hurriedly, her tone wavering with fear, "The world economy is falling to pieces and now they declare war?"

"We ban together, what else can we do?" Alfred spoke strongly, but was not speaking in lavish, extravagant mannerisms this time around (that smack from Francis had sobered him up...for the moment), "Look, if we fight all of them together, we can't lose at all, can we? We may be weak individually, but together we can fight them!"

"They are planning on us doing such a thing," Sweden spoke up, "And they, the opposition, is most likely planning the same tactics."

"Then we have to do the same if we have any chance of winning!"

"…He has a point." Tino spoke to Berwald, "But what about you, I thought you were a neutral person-"

"I cannot remain neutral if they so see me as not being it, and then proceed to declare war on me, on US. Because any allies we take onto our side may not have had the declaration fully placed onto their heads, but they are joining the fight against it, and they should be thought of as having it declared on them as well."

"…Berwald-"

"Hush. Now, we need to think about the fact that we are unsure who is going to attack first…and whom the target is."

Silence echoed out in the room, back stiffening, hands clenching into fists; Lili fiddled with her magenta-hued dress, while Austria bit his lip, and spoke up with,

"Well…It could be any of us. Which does not help our odds. Some of us can ban together and stick in pairs or groups of three, which would help…but…that still does not help. And we need more people on our side, but we're running out of time. At this moment, there are…" Roderich lifted his head to count the bodies in the room, "Twelve of us, and counting the three allies, fifteen."

"That's still a larger number that those who declared war on us." Francis stated, "Why the worry?"

"Because of whom we are fighting; Germany, Russia, Japan…All powerful nations that could get anyone on their side-"

"I heard a rumor, actually…" Lithuania interrupted, "That Belarus has already joined their side."

Heads whipped towards Toris, and Feliks gaped, "When did you hear that?"

"A few hours ago; the grape-vine nowadays is long and fast."

"Oooh, I could say that about something else-"

"FELIKS, not NOW!" Toris slapped his face with the palm, and Poland's face fell,

"Why not?! They, like, already know that we are having sex-"

"AHH! Now's not the time-"

"And we don't want to HEAR about it!" Spain exclaimed, "Really, we already known, but do we have to talk about it?"

"…I'd like to hear about." France grinned, but the beam withered instantly when the other nations glowered at him.

"Well…I believe we should just split up into groups, keep an eye on each other, that is all we can do, really…" Austria sighed, and was about to continue, when America spoke up with,

"Hey…Where's…um…Where's England?"

Roderich blinked, "Did you not hear, Alfred?"

"Hear what?"

_No, of course you did not hear the news, you fool…_

"In the declaration, there was no mention of-"

BANG…

The doors busted open, and in ran the man in question himself; icy eyes of Alfred widened at Arthur's sudden, and almost prophetic, appearance…

"I am sorry I am late, I did not get Francis message about the meeting-"

"FRANCIS! You invited him?!" Roderich screamed, annoyance washing all about his face.

"I…thought I should? Why would I not? You never told me not to-"

"YES, I did! I know you are usually the one who alerts Arthur about these meetings, and I specifically told you not to invite him this time!"

"…Well, when did you tell me that-"

"Last night! I called you, remember!"

The blonde Frenchman paused, "OH! You called me when I was on that date! Roderich, dear Roderich, it is never wise for one to call me while I am courting a beautiful woman. I am liable to forget things."

Austria looked as if he was ready to pull out his hair, or Francis', whichever would be easier.

England's befuddled face was genuine, and he talked once more when he could, stating, "Can someone just explain to me what in God's name is going on-"

"YOU were not supposed to come to this meeting, Arthur Kirkland!"

"And why not?!"

"Because they did not declare war on you!"

"…"

The room turned so silent, one could have heard the dropping of pins; every breath stood out in the dreary room, every soft shift of movement, and all eyes were locked onto the dark-blonde Englishman.

"What?" The question was not just uttered by the Kirkland lad, but by Alfred F. Jones as well; at the synchronized statements, England felt a rising blush on his cheeks, and turned his body fully away from America.

"For...For whatever reason…" Austria was choosing his words carefully, "The…The other nations saw fit not to declare war upon England and the United Kingdom. So…You can remain neutral in this war, or join as an ally. We did not invite other allies, though…The three here today found out through word getting around, or, in Finland's case, their living partner told them so."

"HEY! That's great though!" America proclaimed, "Arthur…um…" The young hero remembered all that had occurred at the last Summit, and shame and embarrassment was blossoming on his face, but he continued his words, "Arthur, you can join us though! Be an ally, you can-"

"No."

"…What?"

After taking a deep breath, Kirkland turned his body, so he was completely facing his former colony,

"I am not going to drag my people into this. You all can handle this without me. I am sorry if that…doesn't **please** you."

Alfred internally winced; 'please you'…that was something he had shouted at England not so long ago.

"S-So you're not going to help at all?! What the hell, Arthur?! Your Navy is one of the strongest in the world, and you aren't going to even join our side!? We could use your help!"

Arthur shook his head, "You do not need my help."

"Yes, we DO!"

"…" Emerald eyes shone with unreadable emotions, and a small smile tugged at the Briton's lips, "You don't. And…And I cannot put England at risk again. We vowed not to fight anymore, not to get involved. I will keep you all in my thoughts, my prayers, and I shall wish you a speedy victory."

"Dammit Arthur, this isn't the time to play hardball or be a stubborn jackass-"

"Alfred, if the man does not want to fight, we cannot force him. We can only ask, and we have done that, well…in a way, we have done that." Edelstein spoke up once again, for in a way, by now, he was definitely head of this meeting.

"But he has to-"

"NO. He does not."

Arthur nodded, "I cannot risk it. And I have already spoken with my boss-"

"To hell with your boss!"

"Watch how you talk about those above you, Alfred!"

"Shut up, Roderich, and convince this man to join the damn war!" America was going into hysterics; they needed England in this war! HE needed England in this war…Was that why he was not going to fight? B-Because of…

_Because of…me…?_

"Well…I can only wish you nations the best of luck, and please, all of you…come back safe." Arthur stepped closer to Alfred, the spectacled one's eyes widening exponentially, "Especially you Alfred. Please. Be smart, you git. Now, I bid you all good day." With a small bow, Arthur headed back towards the doors, and once he passed the doorway, he gave another bow, retreating down the hall thereafter.

"…ARTHUR!" America was furious, and, surprisingly, hurt. With that bellow, he bolted across the room, exiting as fast as he possibly could, like that of a cheetah, and ran to catch up with England, despite Austria and Spain calling him back.

"Gah…Dumb fool…" Austria took off his glasses and rubbed his temple, groaning in exhaustion. He was already tired and the bloody war had not even started yet!

As the other nations remained mute, soaking up the latest developments involving England, dress shoes echoed out on the tile flooring, and an elderly, masculine voice echoed out,

"Master Roderich, there is a phone-call, and the man on the other line says it is important."

"Ah…Jenningson…" The loyal, kind butler; Roderich always enjoyed him, and he was quite a handy man in the busy seasons, such as the holidays, "It is for me, yes?"

The graying man cleared his throat, "Actually Sir…It is for…Mister Heracles Karpusi…"

"Me?" Greece, who had been sagely silent all during the meeting, absorbing knowledge, not causing a ruckus, blinked in perplexity.

"Indeed, Mister Karpusi. Though, he did not say who he was…"

Greece stood, fixing out his light-brown pants and jacket, "It is alright, I shall take it. Where is the phone?"

"Follow me." The butler nodded, and the tan-skinned male followed the elder when he exited the room.

"…So…" They were silent for some time after Greece's departure, so Spain decided to speak up, but that only made Austria sigh.

"Everyone…Just take a break…..Go eat, walk around, do whatever you want, I don't care. Just…don't be stupid. Oh, and Lichtenstein, contact Switzerland. Your brother, though he may be neutral the majority of the time, may help us if we persuade him well enough, perhaps if you do. Since England is choosing not to fight, as I suspected he would do, we need more help."

Lili frowned, "Roderich, I have…been unable to contact him, actually. He got called away last night, and did not tell me where he was going. He said he had just received an emergency call late last night, and that he had to take off. I tried calling him, but he did not pick up."

"…Damn. Alright, nevertheless, try your best later. And this meeting is temporarily adjourned…"

_Until SOME nations get their sanity back…Good God…_

OOoOoOOoooOOooOoOoooOOOOOooOoOooOOoooo

"HOLD IT, right THERE!"

Arthur blinked in surprise as a strong hand gripped his shoulder; God damn, he was only a few feet away from the front door! How did Alfred catch up to him so fast!?

"What is your deal, Arthur?"

"First off…UNHAND ME YOU COOT!" England screamed, shoving Alfred off of him, "How dare you try to touch me!"

"Answer me!" Alfred only replied with that firm command, not paying any attention to the remark about placing his hands on the Brit. Either that, or the comment had completely flown over his head.

"…Oh, you mean to know what my deal is. Well, I feel that I clearly explained it. As you clearly explained **yours** the other night."

"OH HO! So, this is about what I said, isn't it?!"

"…Not necessarily." Arthur shrugged, "I would not have joined in on this trifle of a war anyway, even if you had not stated what you did."

"…" America remained silent, his jaw clenching in fury, "Dammit Arthur! Don't do this! You have to help us! We need you!"

"You have each other. And I do not need to take part in this; my people have already suffered enough! They have been suffering even long before the second World War!"

"Oh, I bet you're referring to seventeen-seventy-six, aren't ya?" Alfred spat, and England replied with a hostile glare.

"You…are a little impudent brat."

"Must've been due to who RAISED me!"

"Raised you!? HA! You left me so fast, and not a word of thank you!"

"Thank you!?" By this time, both nations were bellowing so loud, that Austria had sneaked towards the doors of the living room, and had banged them shut, loudly may I add, "Thank you for WHAT? The STAMP ACT? The TEA ACT?!"

"How about for raising your precious little posterior! At least I fed you, dammit! Kept you warm and safe at night, held you when you cried…" Almost magically, Arthur's voice transformed from a bellow to a soft murmur, "Slept with you when you had those nightmares…Told you stories…"

"Made…Made me laugh…" Alfred smiled softly at the fond memories, his childhood unfolding in his mind once more.

Green eyes locked with cerulean, and for a split second, Arthur wanted nothing more than to say I am sorry, to tear down this façade of anger that he had been building up for the past three days, ever since the Summit, and take Alfred into his arms, hug him tightly, and say…say…

"I need you…"

But it had not been Arthur that murmured that statement…

OoOOOooOOOOOoOOOOOOOOoOOOOOooO

After clearing his throat, Greece picked up the telephone, the shiny, black metal glistening in the small parlor room; the tan man was seated upon a plush green desk chair, his soft eyes of clover-leaf green twinkled brightly due to the nearby window's rays of golden sun.

"Hello? This is Heracles. Boss, if this is you, I am at the meeting, what is it-"

"OH, this is not your boss at all!" A roaring laugh erupted from the other end, and instantly, Heracles' smile faded, the shining sheen in his eyes vanishing like steam.

"…Turkey…" _No…Impossible…W-Why is he calling me…H-How did…How did he get this number…?!_

"OH, yes it is!" Sadiq laughed from the other end of the line, "How ARE you?"

Greece growled angrily, "What do you want?"

"Oh, I just thought I'd give you a ring, to say hello and all…Since we now ARE in a battle of weaponry and wits, yes?"

"You bastard…How dare you declare war on me!"

"Ahahahaha! You act as if that has never happened before!"

"…What do you want?! How dare you call me like this, you are such a smug, little-"

"Easy there, Heracles, haha! You might get over excited and endanger yourself! Or a kitty! Ahahaha!"

"Shut up! Now tell me what you want!"

Turkey hummed for a moment, "Well…I guess you could say…I have a proposition of sorts."

OOOoOOooOOOOooOoOOoOoOOOoOoOOOoOOOO

"You…What did you say?"

Alfred's head was hanging, and England would never dare admit it aloud, but he found the movement quite endearing on his former colony.

"I…I need you, Arthur."

"…I don't understand."

"I need you! What part of that don't you get! I need your help in this war!"

"…Is that all you need me for?" _Say no, say no…GAH, stop that, Arthur…! It is not like you are in love with the boy or anything……I think…Oh, Lord, NO…! Stop it, you are…not! NOT…!_

"...I....I don't think so…"

The Briton remained mute, but stepped closer to Alfred, jade eyes eyeing the younger man warily, with a great deal of apprehension.

"I just…Arthur, I want…I want to apologize."

Now those same emerald eyes were as round as a saucer plate, and Kirkland was beginning to wonder whether or not the Jones boy was slipped some form of drug. Alfred and apologizing were not of the same level. The act never happened with the cocky blonde with the dark glasses.

"Look, what I said the other night...A lot of it IS true. I do feel that I don't know what to do with you anymore. I just…I just wanted to make you proud, and I just…I feel that not only you let me down, but…I let you down too. I think that last part was what made me the maddest the last time we talked…"

Now Arthur was really concerned about the mental state of Alfred.

"But…I…I don't hate you, and I'm sorry if this…this completely ruined whatever friendship we had…Heh, but then again, I'm not even sure what we had was a friendship, so-"

"Alfred, I **am **proud of you."

Emerald eyes were moistening with tears, and England had to brink rapidly to dispel them, and he repeated once more, "I…I am proud of you. And…I am sorry…"

OoOOooOOooOOOOOOOOOooooooooOOooOOooO

"…That is your proposition?"

"Ahaha, yes! Come now, Heracles, you and I could settle this once and for all, yes?"

"A fight? You want me to come and fight you?" Greece was indeed confused, what was the point of coming to fight Turkey like that? "Won't we be fighting soon enough, anyways?"

"Ah, but in this way, we can fight without interference from the other nations. You bring a few men, perhaps about ten soldiers, I promise to bring no more than that, and we shall duel. Us. You and I. The men can protect or keep guard or whatever, but you and I…Oh, no, we shall fight."

"…You don't want the other countries to know about this. Why?"

There was a pause on the other side, Turkey letting out a breath of air, "Because. I have my own reasons, and if you wish to find out, you must show me your strength."

"Strength?"

"Hmm, indeed. And this show of strength, if you choose to accept it-"

"Are you going to make a wry comment about this message exploding once you are done? You sound like a head spy, Sadiq."

Turkey roared with laughter at the comment, "Do I now? Interesting…Well, either way. Two days from now, you shall come to my home-"

"Your home? Why not mine?"

"Because I said so! I am the challenger, so you must go by my rules."

Heracles scoffed, "Oh, aren't you a gracious host."

"Ahaha! I am, thank you for finally noticing!"

"…That was sarcasm…"

"…" There was silence on the other line, and Karpusi could make out, or he believed it to be, a curse from the male on the other side of the line; either way, Sadiq spoke up again a few seconds later,

"So, those are the conditions. Report to my home, bring no more than ten men, and tell no other nations you are coming to my place. We will fight, just the two of us, as it should be. So, do you accept?"

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"…**You're** sorry?"

Arthur rubbed his right arm with his left hand, a nervous habit he had had for years, ever since he was a babe, "…Yes." The lone word answer was so hushed, Alfred had barely heard it.

"Well…um…I can guess why-"

"You're right, Alfred…" _Damn, I never thought I'd admit that…_"About everything…All I have ever done is tear you down…In all honesty, I...I did not think you could do it. Go out on your own…And I think a small part of me…didn't want you to go out on your own."

"You mean you wanted to keep me as a colony?"

"…I mean…I wanted to keep you close to **me**……" Arthur's gaze was not locked onto America's, instead gazing at the floor's perfectly pristine tiles.

"…You could have kept me close even now? I mean, sure I've been teasing you constantly and all, but…" Alfred ran a hand through his golden locks, locks that, though England would dare not admit it aloud, he wanted to touch kindly, caress once more, as he used to when America was a baby boy, "I guess…I just…I wanted to be out on my own not just because of what you were doing to me, but…because I wanted to prove to myself that I could be strong without you. And I wanted to prove it to you, too."

"Heh, you certainly have, you twit…But did you need to dump all that tea out, God!" The Brit laughed at the ending of his proclamation, actually smiling at the fond memory, "Remember how I went to your house and smack you across the face for that?"

Alfred snorted, "Yeah, ouch. That wasn't a nice thing to do…"

"…Yeah…"

The duo went voiceless for some moments more, Arthur strolling around the small hall, going towards a tiny table holding some paperwork belonging to Austria; Alfred remained standing where he was, gazing at the glass ceiling that Roderich had installed in this particular hallway, to let more light into the home.

"He's got a nice home, doesn't he?" America wanted to at least make casual conversation with his former ruler.

"Mm…You…**You **have a nice country, Alfred."

"Huh?"

England turned to face America, an embarrassed smile on the Brit's face, "I'm…a tad jealous, Alfred."

"Of…me?"

Arthur nodded, "You have an amazing nation now…Laws, a great Constitution…And a great Boss this time around, haha…But yes, I'm jealous. I think that also fueled a great deal of my hostility."

"Arthur, you're doing great too! Why be jealous of me?"

The older nation shrugged, "I do not know, Alfred. I do not know a lot of things concerning you…"

The blonde with more vibrant yellow strands gazed confusedly at England, "What do you mean?"

"…Feelings are odd, aren't they?" The other replied enigmatically.

"I guess, it depends on the feelings, right?"

England commented with a hum of agreement, and walked with his head held high back towards his old colony.

"…Arthur, I…I'm not sure at what you're getting at…I'm sorry-"

"Stop apologizing."

The order was so firm, it startled Alfred, sky-hued orbs now showing complete and total bewilderment…

And Alfred could have sworn his brain shut down when a strong English hand touched his arm in a way it had not done so in years…

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"I accept." The words were out of Greece's mouth before he could even change his mind; for, truly, his mind had made the decision an affirmative the moment Turkey had proposed it to him.

"Excellent, darling, I'll see you soon!"

"Darling?!"

"Ahahaha, aw, I think the name suits you!"

"I beg to differ…you bastard." Heracles grounded out, causing the other Mediterranean nation to chuckle,

"We shall see who is giving out the nicknames in time, and remember, tell no one! I shall see you in two days, and arrive at noon!" And Sadiq hung up with a click, but his mad laugh still rang in Greece's ears, even as he placed the phone back in the holder.

Just as the brown-haired male was about to leave the room, who else but Austria entered, a worried expression displayed on his face.

"Are you well, Heracles? Is anything wrong? Was that your boss?"

"Er-Yes, yes it was. And all is well, you worry too much Roderich." Greece hated lying to other nations, it was not part of his mentality or his philosophy of life, but the man knew that if word got around about the deal he had made with Turkey, the other nations would try to join in on it…or at least try to stop him.

"Well, good. Alright then, shall we head back to the living room?"

The Mediterranean country nodded, and fell into step beside Austria; when they had reached the doorway, Greece probed a question, "Has America returned to the room yet?"

"No, now that you mention it, he has not. They were shouting earlier, so I closed the door, but…" Edelstein shrugged as he opened the door once more, "France said that he would not return for some time, though I have no idea why he would believe that…"

Heracles glanced at the European nation in question, and Francis just brushed back his bangs from his face, an all-knowing smile gleaming in the window-pane's light…As if he knew more than he was willing to tell…

Little did the other nations know that America was not to return to the meeting as his normal, perky self…but a shocked, stunned male…unsure of his future actions…

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"Have you…um…" Arthur was nervous, actually nervous! And why was he pondering this sort of question; but his mind had apparently gone on holiday, while his heart was beating thousands of miles a minute, his hand tightening on America's shoulder while jade eyes were having trouble locking with the younger nation's own sapphire orbs, "Have you…"

"Have I what?"

"Have you ever…felt something you're not supposed to…?"

"You mean like constipation-"

"NO! Not like constipation or diarrhea or-"

"Ew, Arthur, why are we discussing this?"

"YOU are discussing this, you twit! **I** am trying to ask you a serious question!"

America smirked, "So…this question is not about constipation-OW!"

"Can it, and let me speak!"

"Fine, but did you have to slap me upside the head?!"

"Yes." _And your hair is still so soft… _

England cleared his throat again, "What I meant to ask was…Have you ever…felt something for another person…that you should not? That…would seem odd…or wrong to feel…"

America blinked, and, to England's surprise, the heroic blonde turned his head away, causing Arthur to command, "Alfred, look at me."

The younger nation shook his head, and only replied with, "Maybe...Maybe I have felt that." Was that a rising blush on his cheeks, or was the Kirkland lad really aging too quickly, and his eyesight was dimming? No, no it had to be the former.

"Does it not…drive you crazy?"

"Maybe a little…It…It makes me mad, too…"

"Mad?" Both men were speaking in hushed whispers, and Alfred's face was so close to Arthur's, so, so close…"Mad as in angry or mad as in insane?"

"Maybe both. I feel…I feel like I'm going insane…But I get angry at myself too; for feeling what I do. Because…I know he can't feel the same."

"**He**?"

"Er-" It almost seemed that America was about to take back the pronoun, say it was in error to say the masculine form, but then the glasses-adorned one sighed, "Yeah…he."

"How do you know that-"

"I just know, Arthur. I just know…Why would he care about me? And like me in the way I think you're talking about…"

"Why wouldn't someone care about you?" England gave a small smile, and had the urge to gently cup America's rosy cheek; but he held himself back, kept his composure, "Alfred, I may have said some things about you in the past…Maybe you are a git, a twit, sometimes moronic, and you're too obsessed with being Mister Hero, Mister Fantastic, and you eat too many cheeseburgers-"

"Are you going to say anything positive any time soon, or should I just go and take a nap?"

"I'm GETTING to it!" Arthur huffed, and, without even thinking about it, he pulled his former colony closer, so they were chest-to-chest, "But some of that…isn't so bad….And…There's so much good about you. You care about others, you are so concerned about Justice, you…you…And you're pretty good looking too, haha!" _So good looking, I've had the urge to jump you, you fool…! What have you done to me…?!_

"Um…Thanks…I guess…Heh; it really doesn't solve the current issue though…"

"Well…" Without his mind giving the command, Arthur reached a fragile hand up and caressed dear old 'Nantucket', "Figure out a way to solve it, you fool…"

"Ah…B-But…"

"What, are you afraid?"

"…Yeah…"

"The brave, golden-boy hero is afraid?"

"Hey! Just b-because…I'm a hero doesn't mean I don't feel fear…" It was hard to talk; Arthur was continuing to touch his cowlick, and they were so close, too close for comfort, but Alfred did not have the strength and willpower to push England away.

"Fear what? Come now, Cowboy, you, fear? I would never suspect that from you at all…"

America frowned, "I do fear things, you know, I'm human. I fear for my people, first off. A-And…I fear rejection too, just like every other human!"

Arthur blinked, and smirked, "The great America fears rejection? Here I would think you'd just take what you'd want."

"You want me to take what I want?"

"…Maybe…It could solve the problem, yes?"

_But if he is not talking about me, I could lose this…Him…_

_No matter, this will show if I should get my hopes up or not-!!!_

Alfred had grabbed Arthur, hands on the Brit's shoulders, tightly, "Fine. I'll take what I want."

And just like that, America's soft lips bombarded England's own, in a sweet kiss, stunning the Brit into full-on submission…

For once, Arthur's brain shut down as he kissed back slowly, relishing in the taste he had dreamed of for the past three days, it being the only dream he had had for the past seventy-two hours; but this event as a whole, this first kiss with America, it had haunted his sleep for so long…

But like Hell would Arthur Kirkland ever admit that aloud…

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A/N: ^^ YAY, another long chapter! And aw, first kiss! XD You may or may not see America and England next chapter, I have to see…We have to address some of the other minor players in the story, and some of the other pairings!

Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed this! There's more to come very soon! And thanks again! : D


	4. Traitorous Hearts

A/n: YAY, more Hetalia for you! : D Thank you for all the views and favs and alerts from last time, and here we go for more! ^^ Prepare for another long chapter!

Warning: There are your first touches of not just fighting/violence, but also heavy Yaoi and heterosexual romance in this chapter! You've been warned! 8D

Inspired By:

- "I'm Not Dead" - Pink

- "Better In Time" - Leona Lewis

- "Fight For Love" - Elliot Yamin

- "One" - U2

- "Dirty Little Secret" - All American Rejects

- "Walking On a Dream" - Empire of the Sun

- "Angels on the Moon" - Thriving Ivory

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_  
Are bombs the only way of setting fire to the spirit of a people? _

_Is the human will as inert as the past two world-wide wars would indicate?_

_- Gregory Clark_

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The male was quiet as he stepped through the sandy grounds; Greece could never know what Sadiq was planning for this special little encounter. The winds had been blustery on the journey to the country, after having taken a plane, the young male had to travel by foot for a few miles, a cover over his mouth, lest he get sand in his orifice, grains on his teeth.

Thankfully, the winds had died down, and now the walk with Heracles' men was much more bearable, but still stressful all the same. Greece continuously wondered whether more of the New Axis (As his side of the war had come to call their opponents) would attack from behind a tree, a rock, anything…

"Sir, we have not detected any other life-forms nearby." Greece's head general out of his ten men had constantly told him so, the man's tone growing annoyed as the probing failed to cease after the second question. But Heracles insisted he had to be careful, stating that Adnan's trickery was infamous.

Finally, the large home came into the young nation's sight, and he ordered his men to stay back, with a wave of his hand; tentatively, Heracles marched up the marble steps (Sadiq never wanted to stop showing how extravagant of a taste he had), and with emerald eyes wavering nervously, the young male rang the doorbell.

Almost instantaneously, Sadiq was there in the doorway, swinging open the doors with a goblin-esque grin.

"Why, darling, you showed up! Ahahaha, for a while there, I didn't think you'd come."

Heracles grimaced, a flush coming on his face at the pet name, "Let us just get this over with, Sadiq, I'd rather not waste any of my precious time with you."

"Aw, now, that's not very nice to say." Turkey pouted, and though his face was mostly hidden by his white mask, Greece could detect how the male was trying to play the sweet-sympathy card, "I invited you all the way out here-"

"To fight me. I'm not your guest, remember?"

"Well, of course I remember! Silly little Heracles, you really think I'd ever show you hospitality?"

"On the contrary, I'd never think that." Greece stepped closer to his rival, a smirk on his face, "Like you would ever show me hospitality, after all these years."

Turkey remained silent, a frown on his face, and he pushed his way past his former friend and united nation, to stand in front of his house, his own group of ten men following; Sadiq bellowed, "Well? Come along, you young fool, so we can get this over with." The darkly-tanned male continued to walk paces away, not stating for Greece to follow; he assumed, and knew, he would.

Stationary trees, of palm and cactus variety were scattered about the desert-beach area that Turkey had decided to place his home, an oasis of sorts. But the duo continued on, their men following behind them, though Heracles dared not ask exactly where they were walking to, and how long it would take to arrive at their destination.

Two hours of silent walking passed, neither man stopping (though the squads of ten often complained), and eventually, Sadiq stopped on a dime, not turning around, only muttering, "We have arrived."

With soft pants, Greece hesitantly came to stand beside his rival, and look at their surroundings, "…The Black Sea Coast…?"

Indeed it was; the men stood atop a cliff, overlooking the sea, the lush green grass blowing beneath their feet; what a contrast it was from the oasis and sandy environment they had been in hours ago! Along the way, Heracles had seen greenery, as they had passed through the Rize, along stone pathways, but the coast! Nothing could compare to that, how the waves washed against the shore, the sky a light-gray in the afternoon light, the sun just beginning to peak out from behind a stratus cloud.

"You always enjoyed this place when you were younger, Heracles…" Turkey murmured, mainly to himself, "Don't…you remember when I used to bring you here? When you would beg me to?"

Greece wanted to say no, that he did not, and never would; but there was a look in Adnan's eyes that was too hard to say no to. The taller male was...reminiscing? How could that be? He actually missed days as the Ottoman Empire?

_Or maybe he just misses **you**, and fears to say so…? No, impossible…_

It was not as if Turkey was sad, per se…But that expression…Karpusi had a difficult time actually naming it, for he had never seen it on the other's face before.

"…Yes, I remember all of that."

Turkey's head shot towards Greece's, chocolate eyes locking with jade. For a moment, when Sadiq opened his mouth slightly, it seemed as if the older male had more to say; his expression, albeit solemn and almost downright sad, still gave away nothing as to what else was on the male's mind.

But whatever magic there had been vanished when Adnan snapped his mouth shut with a snort, turning away from the cliff with a determined gaze on his face, "Well? Are you ready?" His voice was heavy, thick with emotion, yet his back was ram-rod straight, his face neutral once more when he turned to gaze over his shoulder at Heracles, who just nodded a reply.

"Very well. MEN, stay back, all of you, whether you serve me or this incompetent fool!" With a swift motion, Sadiq pulled out the sword he always carried on his person from its sheath, gleaming a smile at his ex-friend.

Heracles' orbs blinked, "I…do not have a weapon, I was not sure how we were going to fight, so I-"

"Tsk, tsk, darling! You should have been prepared. That just shows how naïve and stupid you are; not even prepared, ha! To think, if I had brought a gun, or had just prepared to kill you, you'd already be dead, you fool!" A bellowing laugh rang out along the coast, and Greece felt himself blush with embarrassment, and the younger one just shouted,

"Give me a damn sword! Then I'll show you who the fool is!" The snarl, the growl, was so full of hate, that even Turkey stopped laughing the moment Heracles unleashed it. He stood, staring at Greece, another enigmatic expression flashing on his face for just mere seconds. Sadiq alone was a mystery, and he chose now, as always, not to divulge what secrets lay in his heart; instead, he chose to go to one of his men, pulling out a sword from the soldier's sheath, tossing it to Greece.

"Use that."

"Ah…Are you sure-"

"I SAID. Use it." Turkey's eyes were cold once more, and after giving a command to the twenty other soldiers to stay back, or 'do whatever the hell you want' (no one ever said Sadiq was an eloquent leader, now did they?), the male got into a fighting stance, sepia eyes locked onto Greece's orbs, the dark hue of the grass they stood upon shining with not just fear, but the pulsing adrenaline caused his nearly-dilated eyes to shine with enjoyment, excitement as well.

"Well? Make a move, old man, haha." Greece stood proudly, smiling, though trying not to go into the realm of cockiness, "You said you were going to finish this, yes?"

The 'old man' snide comment was enough for Turkey, and he charged, swinging his sword, only for the move to be blocked by Heracles, smirking as the metal swords collided with a bang, Sadiq snarling.

"Remember, dear Turkey, you taught me all I know about sword fighting."

The former Empire let out a roar, swinging his sword at Greece once more, but the young Karpusi dodge with a jump and slid to the side, giving a mocking come-hither motion with his hand to Turkey, who let out a snort, and stated,

"My, my, were you this cocky when I controlled you!?" Another clash of metal, another parry, but before Adnan could strike again, he let out a shriek, tumbling to the ground when Heracles pulled a swift move, kicking the older man's legs out from underneath him.

"You say you controlled my being, but I beg to differ. I still had free-AH!" Heracles' move backfired, for Turkey managed to swing his leg while semi-lying on the ground, knocking the younger male off his own feet, plummeting and landing on his derriere.

"Oh? Free will? Was that was you were going to say?" Turkey sneered, and rested the tip of his sword on Greece's chin, "My, I didn't teach you that, you must have learned it on your own."

"You do not learn it, you are born with it." Heracles wasted no time, swatting Turkey's sword away rapidly enough and far enough from his face, to stand up with the speed of a cheetah, sword pointing at Sadiq, "And I seem to remember I was born before you decided to take control of me all those years ago!"

Turkey let out a laugh while he stretched his muscular shoulders, and tosses off his red fez hat, "Mm, yes you were. Such a cute little boy, yes, I remember that. Too bad you grew up into…this." The last word was spat with so much disgust, Greece found the blood rush to his ears, his brain, and, with a scream, he charged forward, thrusting his blade in the air towards Turkey, who just had enough time to swing his own, blocking the move.

"Aha, still a fire-cracker, aren't ya, Greecey?"

"I thought I told you to never call me that!"

"Aww, but it came from that time when you wouldn't wash your hair!"

"Shut UP!"

More clashing and clanging of metal rang out as the duo continued to bicker.

"Oh, but you were actually being cute back then, it was so sweet!"

"Stop reminiscing, and FIGHT ME!" This time, the foil hit its mark, right across Turkey's cheek, and the man cried out, falling back, clutching the already-bleeding skin. The cut was light, but it left its mark, and would eventually leave a scar.

"You…are a cheeky little brat."

"You always call me that."

"Because it is always true!" Sadiq stood, shaking his head at his approaching men, coming to their master's aid, but he bid them back to where they originally stood. Let the blood flow, he did not care. Turkey planned to make this little brat pay for messing up his beautiful face!

"OH?! Maybe I'm just so grown-up that you can't stand it! So you instead try to demean me, and call me a child, a brat!"

"Excuse me?!" Turkey was already marching forwards, but that did nothing to deter Greece's response, his sword already in a defensive position,

"Yes! You do not realize that I have grown up, that I don't need you! You're still so mad that I had to declare independence all those years ago! And not to mention, we have nothing in common, and we-we're stubborn, and-AH!" Greece had to stop his tirade when Turkey swung his blade, nearly slicing into Heracles' arm, the younger male blocking it just in time.

"You're right, we have nothing in common, and frankly, you despise me. And I despise you." They parried back and forth, the nearby men still watching, as the fighting duo walked majestically along the rocky cliffs above the sandy beach below, "You are always preaching some inane philosophy that I just **have** to follow, and those cats-!"

"OH, and you better not insult my cats!"

"Why shouldn't I!? They are filthy animals!"

"And what about your sweet-tooth?! Honestly, have you heard of a thing called grain?!"

"HAH! And why is my diet a concern to YOU?" Now they were swinging the rapiers with one hand, skill finally coming to the surface, and to Greece's grief, he was being backed up towards the sea.

"It is not, trust me. I just hope you realize you will not get a wife of sorts with that sort of taste!"

"Aw, and here I thought **you** were already my wife, haha."

A flash of red blossomed on Karpusi's face, but he would neither have time to fight back, nor give a biting remark…

For the rocks underneath his feet, on top of that cliff gave way…

"AHHH!" Greece let out a screech as he felt his body tumbling down unto the ground below…But in the blink of an eye, he had stopped, instead his lanky body hanging there, brunette tresses in his eyes, but emerald eyes were able to gaze up…

And see Sadiq standing there, holding his hand, a look of dread on the Turkish nation's face.

"Ah…" _Why doesn't he just…drop me…?_

"Just hang on, I'll…I'll pull you up, I swear."

"I highly doubt that! AH!" Heracles' sword, at that moment, fell from his hand, and plummeted to the ground with a clang, causing Greece to swear.

"I WILL, have some faith in me you fool!" There was pain behind the comment, and Turkey frowned as he tried to lift the other male upwards, back towards the surface.

Sadly, Turkey was to fail; for the rocks beneath **his **feet were just as weak, and they too broke off the side of the cliff, sending not just Greece tumbling down the side of the coast, but his rival and former-ruler as well, screams echoing out as they dropped down onto the sandy beaches and sea below…

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Greece found that every single part of his body was wallowing in agony and pain; it was so bad, he did not want to open his eyes, choosing to keep them closed, even when his mind was starting to pierce its way through the miasmic fog of unconsciousness.

"Mmm…" Heracles was just beginning to find his voice once more, and the non-eloquent murmur was due to the fact that a calloused hand was caressing his forehead, brushing back his brown bangs. The hand had a soft touch, and was indeed gentle, and the skin touching him was also velvety, despite the roughness of the calluses and skin.

"Easy. You hit your head pretty hard, just relax."

Bleary jade gems opened up at that voice; Greece knew whom it was, it was Turkey, who else.

"…Sadiq?"

"Your head hit a rock when we fell, just lie down. I was able to bandage it up." He failed to mention he had also bandaged up the slash Greece had managed to give him on his cheek, but the Karpusi lad could see it anyways.

"…How did we…survive?"

"The fall was not that great, actually." Adnan responded with a small chuckle, "And we mostly landed on sand, so…Except for that damn rock, poor baby." Another laugh from Sadiq, and Greece pouted.

"I would have the luck to land on a rock, or at least my head would." The caressing of his skin and bandaged head felt oh, so nice, yet he would be damned if he said so. And though he leaned into the touch, Greece meant nothing by it.

"Hah, yes, you would…"

"…Where are we?"

"A cave along the shore. I was able to carry you here, you can thank me later." Turkey replied smugly, causing Karpusi to snort,

"And do the men know we are here?"

"I highly doubt it. Most likely, they saw us fall, and ran to get help. Or they are trying to climb down the cliff, and that may take awhile. All I know is, that when I awoke on the shore, you were lying there, and I did not hear any of the soldiers at all."

"…You **did **wake up before me…" Greece murmured, and Turkey nodded,

"Yes. For awhile, I was unsure if you were to awaken at all."

"…That means…"

"Hmm?" It was of course obscured, but the Adnan male had quirked an eyebrow.

"That means you could…have had the chance to kill me. While I was unconscious…Or you could even do it now…I'm took weak to fight back."

"…"

Sadiq did not reply, choosing to in turn to move his head away from Greece's beautiful stare.

"…You really think I would kill you, Heracles?"

"Why wouldn't you? You hate me-"

"Just because I hate you does not mean I would kill you!" Turkey interrupted, fury and despair mixing in his voice, "And…And…"

"And what?"

"…I don't…necessarily completely hate you."

"…Then why did you challenge me to come out here?"

Turkey groaned, shaking his head, "Because I…I just…" Why was he having so much trouble talking? Was it because the younger male was staring at him like so, green eyes questioning his real motives…? That stare was bulldozing down his tough, brick walls that Sadiq had spent precious hours of self-meditation putting up; it was tearing everything apart, making Adnan feel the emotions he had tried so hard to push away, destroy, but yet, they continued to boil and bubble to the surface like brew.

"…Sadiq, tell me. What is going on…?"

Cautiously, Turkey removed his hand from Greece's brow, choosing instead to slam it down next to the lying lad's head, the other hand, the left, following suit. In seconds, a Sadiq came into Heracles' view, a distraught Sadiq, a man whom the dark-haired Greece had never seen.

"…I…I brought you here because…" He could not contain himself further, Turkey had reached his boiling point; the member of the New Axis lowered his lips onto the confused Mediterranean nation's, kissing him softly.

Greece dared not move; in essence, he was just letting Sadiq ravish him! But what else could he do other than freeze up like a statue of Zeus? So yes, he would just lie there, lie there while this man…kissed him so gently, the contact sending shocks up the Grecian's spine…As the feeling continued to go on and on, Heracles was almost tempted to close his eyes, completely give into the feeling, the feeling he should be despising, but before he could let out the groan he was holding back, Sadiq retreated, releasing Greece's lips.

"…I brought you here because of that…"

Heracles knew he was blushing; who would not be blushing after THAT?

"A-And what sort of message am I to gather from t-that…?"

Turkey chuckled, moving his hands away from the other's head, moving them behind his own cranium, and with swift untying of fabric, the man's mask was removed, and placed off to the side.

"…Take whatever message you want. I think you know what I am trying to get at." That damn smirk! How could it be so cocky and despicable, yet so alluring at the same time…?!

"N-No I don't!" _N-Now he's nearly straddling me, w-what do I do…!? Scream for help…!? Keep denying that this is…this is making me feel…weird…?!_

"You do."

Greece shook his head again as Turkey leaned in once more, legs on either side of Heracles' hips and body. He knew he had to be gentle; it was more than likely that the younger male had injured his bones and muscles to a good degree from that fall, and Turkey dared not cause him any more pain.

"No…I don't…"

"You're lying, darling-"

"Why do you keep calling me that?!"

"Haha, because it makes you mad…and you're cute when you're mad."

Greece felt his face heat up at the flirtatious comment, and he pouted, "Oh, shut up."

"Aww, do you really want me to? From the way you keep staring at my eyes, I don't think you want me to."

"Ah…" More red on the face, and Heracles wiggled uncomfortably, "They're just…really nice eyes, that's all!"

_Now that I can fully see them without that damn mask…!! I mean, he's only taken that off for me maybe…once? Twice? Before…I can barely remember…_

"…You have really nice eyes too….Sorry I never complimented on them before, haha."

"Oh, like you'd even lower yourself to give a compliment to another person!"

"Mmm…Maybe…" Turkey did not snap back or shout, choosing instead to reach out a hand, and stroke Greece's cheek, "Or maybe not. I have to say, you have quite improved in your swordsmanship skills."

"Uh, well, I just...I've been practicing…"

"Quite well, from what I can see…"

"…T-Thanks…" That hand had moved from Greece's cheek to his neck, rubbing a soft spot of skin, and, to Heracles' utter horrific shock, an erogenous zone to boot.

"…You like that?" Sadiq's voice had morphed into a husky whisper, and as if a siren was singing it as a hypnotizing song, all Heracles could do was nod in agreement.

"Heh, thought so…-Ah…" Greece had let a hand go up behind Turkey's neck, to rub the double-curl that was near the former Ottoman Empire's neck, and Adnan had no choice but to give in to the sensations those deft fingers were causing to form in his body, "H-Heracles…"

"…We shouldn't do this-"

"Shouldn't we?"

"W-We're enemies, you hate me-" Greece's words came out in a whispering babble, and Turkey nearly wanted to scream that he found it to be so adorable.

"Do I hate you? Or is it the exact opposite?"

That shut the worried Karpusi up, and sea green eyes shone with dire confusion and worry, and fear and shock, but the emotions warred with the desire, the compliance, the revelations, the…the love…

"I…Sadiq, we shouldn't, you-you're not on my side-"

"Or am I?"

"S-Stop answering my questions with more questions, just-Oooh…" Turkey's lips came to that same spot where his hand had been, and now cotton kisses were dancing across Greece's neck, with tiny bites and nips sprinkled in.

"Hah…Sadiq, you can't-"

"Yes, I can. And if you were in better shape, I'd make you mine forcefully, but I guess I'll have to use this sort of method, haha." He blew a puff of air, causing Greece to shiver, and lift a hand to bite down on the thumb, lest he let out a moan that was just itching to escape.

"Oh, now, that's no fun. You mean I don't get to hear your pretty voice?"

The other shook his head rapidly, and the Adnan lad just laughed vivaciously, lifting his head all the way, leaning in towards Greece's face.

"If anything is going near your lips, it is either my own lips, or my privates, got it?" Turkey used his strong, gloved to grab Heracles' chin, so they were nose-to-nose, bodies pressed together, and all Greece could reply with was, "Meep!"

"Ahahaha, that's adorable. Simply adorable, no wonder I am become infatuated with you."

"I-Infatu-wha-Mmph!" Turkey cut him off with a quick kiss, so quick, he broke away, choosing to speak again,

"Then again, I am fairly sure that this is not just some sort of crush, you know." Another rapid kiss, then, "We have known each other for so long, we should have realized that it would come to this, dear Heracles."

"C-Come to what-Mmph! STOP!"

"Ohohoho, you'll be begging for me to stop eventually, yet you won't mean it."

"Ah! HEY, stop saying stuff like that, and explain yourself, what do you mean by that it came to 'this'?"

"…I mean…It came to the point where I'd make you mine."

There was not a second for objections, due to Turkey grabbing the back of Greece's neck, bringing their lips together in a crash of emotions, in a kiss that held so much more fire than then one before had had. Heracles gasped at the daring move, though he was not too surprised. Sadiq **would **be selfish and daring, wanting to claim him, make him his, but…his…what? Lover?

Maybe that was what Karpusi was hoping for, for the man slowly, carefully, to make sure he did not harm himself further, wrapped his arms around Adnan's neck, causing the older nation to smirk into the kiss, which was deepening by the moment.

Greece let out a moan when Turkey daringly bit his lower lip, while tongues raged a teasing war of entanglement, Sadiq firmly taking permanent control as his hands rested on Heracles' lower back, rubbing it fairly gently, dare he disturb the wounded skin and bones from the fall.

Sadiq's lips moved with aching slowness away from the quivering Greece's, and began to kiss the man's jaw line, Turkey's dark stubble rubbing up against Heracles' cheek like that of a delighted cat.

"Ah…S-Sadiq…"

"Mmhmm…" Turkey's mouth was on Greece's neck, and said Mediterranean nation was panting harshly at this point, one hand fisted in Turkey's dark-chocolate locks, the other digging into the rocky floor of the cave. And another moan came from young Heracles when Sadiq got the nerve to bite down on the man's erogenous zone, sucking greedily, as if the tan skin was a sucker, a limited-edition candy.

"O-Oh, God…" Greece wondered if it was right for his body to be responding the way it was, and if he should be wanting Turkey to keep that motion up, to keep marking him, kissing him, but in reality, the young male failed to care after another bite caused him to groan, and when Adnan's hand sneaked past his tan coat, and up his white t-shirt, to caress his abdomen muscles, Greece whimpered, closing his eyes, skin blossoming in goose-pimples, his muscles shaking with spasms.

"You want this too, don't you?" Sadiq whispered in the younger man's ear, choosing to afterward nibble on the shell and lobe seductively, twisting the tiny lobe around his tongue, and sucking on it, causing Greece to moan once more, "Haha, I bet you are a screamer, my sweet little Heracles."

"Ah…S-Shut up."

"Haha, such defiance in you…But I've always loved that about you, darling."

"Stop calling me darling, you-OH GOD!"

Lips moved to suck on Greece's collarbone, the skin having been teasing poor old Sadiq for the longest time, it just being barely visible underneath that shirt. Now that Turkey had the chance, he blatantly pushed the fabric aside with his face, and bit down on the collarbone, kissing it, ravishing it.

"Say you want this."

"Ah…S-Sadiq, no, don't make me-"

"Say it. Or I stop completely." The command was firm, cold even, despite the heat of the moment.

"…I-I want this."

"Badly?" There was a chuckle coming from the powerful, egotistical Turkey's throat, and Greece groaned,

"YES, badly."

"…So **who** do you want-"

"YOU, you bastard, now stop teasing me!"

The shout startled Sadiq, and caused him to blink in a stupor, but it faded swiftly, and turned into a dark grin, and tough hands pushed Greece all the way back, onto his back, the body colliding with the floor not-too-gently.

"Well, well, if you're going to beg like that, I have no choice BUT to say yes to you."

"Ah…Sadiq…But…"

"Look. You obviously want this, I want this, and so what's the problem?"

"But…"

"Shh…If you keep talking about butts, I may have to just molest yours."

"WHAT-Mmm…"

Screaming was silence with a kiss, while Greece's hold around Turkey tightened as Sadiq came to lay his entire body gingerly on top of Heracles', hands fisted in dark, Grecian locks. Subtly, the Adnan lad was able to grind his hips into Karpusi's, causing the latter to groan in rapture, tossing his head back with a roll of his eyes; Turkey used the move to his advantage, choosing to move his lips southward, to suck on the smaller nation's throat greedily.

"Ah…Y-Yes…" Greece was babbling, but he dared not care; the sensations were driving him mad, he never knew that kisses and touches could feel this amazing.

Swift Turkish hands pulled the other into a sitting position, enough so where he could tug off the Grecian's jacket, flinging it aside, and said appendages returned, to caress the barely-clothed arms of Heracles, both men's breathing becoming labored, eyes glazed with desire, for each other, only each other. Greece could not even recall when his heart had ever beat this fast, when he had ever found it so hard to look another man in the eye. And Turkey noticed the maneuvering of the orbs, how they would barely lock onto his own for just but a second.

"What's wrong?" Adnan questioned softly, resting his forehead against the other's, a small beam on his face.

"…Scared, I guess."

"…I can understand that."

"Sadiq, I…I just…I want this, but-"

"It does not seem to be right, does it? After all these years of fighting, quarreling..."

"And now the war…" Heracles finished for him, ending his comment with a sigh, "I just…don't understand why you choose to bring this up now."

Turkey's grin grew, turning impish like how he always smiled, "Must be because I love throwing you off a little, Heracles, haha. You're quite adorable when confused."

"…" Greece blushed, twisting his body out of nervousness, and of course, the older one laughed once more, but then stated,

"Heracles…Undress me."

"H-Huh...?"

Turkey's smile was seductive, and the other nation found himself falling for it, like that of a spell; even more so when the deep, husky voice of Sadiq whispered in his ear, "You heard me. Take off my clothes."

Shaking hands responded, and twitchingly came to the green coat of the taller male, sliding out the buttons from their holes in a perfectionist manner, making sure to be careful with the treasured emerald fabric. Greece slid the coat off of Sadiq's shoulders once the buttons were loose; the scarf fell to the cold ground first, lifted off of the strong, tan neck tenderly. The way Heracles was moving touched the ex-Ottoman Empire; it was as if he was praising him, his body, his belongings, taking extra care to please him. How unlike the younger nation; one would come to suspect that after all the fighting, the man would far from be so kind.

While distracted with undressing Turkey, Greece did not even notice when Sadiq's hand came to tug at his own t-shirt, and the younger male lifted his arms, helping Adnan tug off the troublesome garment, throwing it to the side; Sadiq's coat and undershirt joined the pile, and once both were bare-chested, the former Empire pulled Heracles closer, so they were chest-to-chest, heart-to-heart.

Dark mahogany eyes raked over Greece's body, the man fit; not extremely skinny, far from fat, and in very good shape for his age. After peeling off his gloves, Sadiq took the cross Karpusi wore around his neck at all times, kissing it softly, eyes staring heatedly into Greece's. And then, with a flash, the cross was lifted from the strong neck, and tossed aside, but gingerly, with care.

They were waging a war in that cave, as tongues twisted around one another in a hellfire-style kiss. Greece's hands were roaming over Turkey's nearly-midnight-hued locks, the older male moaning whenever the curl near his neck was tugged, and he responded after the fifth tug by pushing Heracles to the ground with a thump, straddling him as his tongue weaved a wet path down Karpusi's chest, only stopping for some seconds to tweak pert, brown nipples of Greece, who gave off moans of desperate desire.

Sadiq would never state that he had never imagined that he and Greece would reach this level of intimacy in a cave, of all places; no, he had always pictured him and Heracles professing desire upon a soft Turkish bed and quilt, the younger nation screaming his name as he would pump into him heatedly…But to have it all occur here, on this cave, tucked away on a beach near the Black Sea….Well, it would do. As long as it got the message across, that was all that mattered to Turkey.

And Heracles would never to admit that he had sometimes wondered what would happen if he confessed to Turkey how he had really felt; that he sometimes pondered what it would be like to kiss those dark-pink lips, to be held in strong arms, to stop the fighting for just one second…Maybe this was love, maybe this was not. He did not know, probably would not know until later, until he could just lie with the other man in peace, when the world was at peace.

But now, this was war; the war was alighting their passions even further. The thought that either of them could die without a second thought, be shot through the beating, vital organ, and no longer awaken to see the other there on the opposite side of the bed. Though not at the forefront of their minds, it was there; that was why Karpusi subconsciously wrapped his still-clothed legs around Turkey's waist as Adnan straddled him, strong hands fisted in the younger one's hair, while a Grecian mouth was ravished while any idea of stopping was wholly disbanded.

They wanted to make it last; their throbbing members wanted it to come, it was an internal struggle of telling feelings, and how fast they could make love in that cave.

But…

They were not to be fast enough…

"SIR?!"

The duo had not heard the footsteps; and at the shout, Turkey lifted his head, ready to scream at whoever had stopped his romancing of his former subject.

The pistols pointed at him, though, changed his mind.

"M-Men, I…" Greece babbled to his soldiers, who had finally found the cave, and the two men whom had fallen from the side of the cliff, "Look, p-put those guns away!"

The head general snarled, and reached a hand to Greece's shoulder, grabbing him, tugging him away from the still-shell-shocked Turkey, "Your boss is to hear of this! I KNEW you were fraternizing with the enemy!"

"F-Fraternizing?! W-We were just-"

"OH, we saw what you were doing. We're leaving. NOW."

Sadiq shook his head, managing to get out of his stupor, "RELEASE HIM! He's not leaving if he does not want to-"

"Sadiq…" Heracles turned around, already half-way out of the cave, his general still having an iron-grip on his arm, "It...It really is best if I go, I'm sorry, I…"

Turkey shook his head, "NO, you don't have to, this…this…"

"I'm sorry, but-AGH, I'm coming!" The gruff general had yanked Heracles' arm with much vigor, causing the man to scream out in pain; with a pained expression, Heracles shook his head at Turkey, biting his lip, mumbling, "I'm so sorry, I can't be here." And with that, after a soldier had picked up Greece's discarded clothes, the group of Grecian men had left, their footsteps still sounding out in Sadiq's ears, along with harsh reprimanding by the general to the young male under his control.

Turkey did not have the strength to move his legs, and sat in that cave despondently, running a hand over the stone floor; the surface was still warm from where Heracles had been laying and sitting, and the former Ottoman Empire let out a sigh. Damn, he should have just told Heracles to come alone…then they could have…could have…

"Sir?"

Sadiq lifted his head to see that his own men had finally shown up, the slow bastards. They were always lethargic when it came to doing actual work.

"I am fine."

"Where is the other one?" One of the men questioned, strengthening his hold on his rifle, as if he was assuming Greece and his men were planning some inane surprise attack at that very moment.

"He…left. With his men." Turkey could only hope that he was keeping his voice neutral when it came to emotion.

"Ah…Well, then we should return to planning strategic maneuvers, Sir." The head general of the group of ten commanded, "Especially since you failed to take him out."

Sadiq only shrugged, "It depends on what I and my boss decide on, not just my personal plans and ideas."

The general quipped an eyebrow, "Sir? Are you sure you are unharmed? You're actually talking about that country and that Heracles fellow as if you actually like them, haha."

Turkey tried to laugh along, but his laugh was tense, and the smile plastered on his face was false, but it was enough to satisfy his men, "I'll shall be joining you all soon, you may go on ahead."

Each of the ten saluted Turkey, and exited the cave in perfected steps of coordination; Sadiq stared at their retreating backs, the shared words not easing his heart one little bit.

What had he done….?

He had declared war on the one person that meant more to him than all of the other fools combined.

All because he and his boss just had to be selfish, hateful…Because they all had to be so hateful!

Turkey let out a scream of anguish in the cave, throwing a punch at the cavern's wall, his knuckles hitting the stone with full-force.

Of all times to have fallen in love…

And he knew, with absolute conviction, that poor Greece was in for a hell's worth of trouble when he got back to his own country, and it had not been his entire fault! If anyone was to blame, it was Adnan! With any luck, the news that he had been in a compromising, yet utterly fantastic, position with Greece would reach his boss as well, and then…Oi, he did not want to think of the trouble that was to come!

But all of the kissing….and touching…Ooh, it had been worth it, and with his back against the stone, face towards the roof of the rock formation carved into the side of the cliff, Sadiq smiled.

Oh, damn him for being traitorous, he did not care; he would get back to Greece as soon as humanly possible, damn the war. Damn them all! He would get what he wanted, and that was Heracles Karpusi.

And though Adnan had been interrupted this time, he would make sure that while he fought in this war, to get the land he deserved, he would also get the man he deserved.

Maybe that was why Sadiq, after dressing once more, was grinning like a maniac while he slipped on his pristine, snow-white mask.

Oh, he was determined as ever…

The war-which was really just a game-was just beginning…

But the war in his heart was ending.

And the white flag in it would be raised when Heracles was in his arms once more…

OoooOOooOOOOoOOOOOoOooOOOOOo

**Miles Away- The Island of Seychelles **

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

He was not even supposed to be here, but Gupta did not care; his sandal-clad feet sneaked through the island's foliage, tan hands brushing back bushes and shrubs, just beginning to bloom in the lovely summer weather of the island.

But there she was, just as he had predicted; dear little Chell, his nickname for her, or sometimes Seyche. Both names annoyed the female nation to extremes, but the Hassan lad always thought it was downright adorable when she would throw a temper-tantrum.

Seychelles was in her favorite river, though it be small. There were no major rivers in the African island, only small ones, and as her blue dress blew in the breeze, the girl was singing a small African tune, of love and faith, as she fished with her hands, trying to gather as much food as possible for her people.

Supposedly, Ethiopia and Kenya (And France, of course) were still trying to court the young girl, but Egypt was determined to have her as his own. Ever since he had fully gotten to know Seychelles after a World Summit meeting three years ago, he had never been able to get her out of his head. She was intelligent, adorable, compassionate, everything he could want in another.

But with this war…This war coming up…

"And the little boy told his sister, 'I have met the one'…" Chell was still singing, not hearing the other nation's approaching footsteps, her eyes still gazing out into the water as her feet danced along the shallow, wet shore.

"Seyche."

That calling was enough to get her attention, and the young island spun around, blinking chocolate orbs, "Gupta? AH, Gupta!"

She ran to embrace him, hugging him tightly, soft hands coming to rub Egypt's back, the young male responding only with,

"Seychelles, I apologizing for being away for so long."

"It's alright; I know you've been busy." The woman pouted, retreating from the hug, but Muhammad Hassan came to grasp her hands gently in his own.

"It is no excuse though, and you know it."

"Gupta…" Seychelles was far from stupid; she knew that Egypt truly cared about her. Though he had not announced words of love to her, she could see it in his eyes. Though, he had barely kissed her (only on her cheeks), dammit! And though she dared not be impatient, she wanted to see if he really wanted to be with her. Arguably, Gupta was known for taking things slow, in all matters; he was a calculating individual, a man who planned out his moves so much, and with such careful precision.

"I am to assume you heard of the war, yes?"

_Always with business with you, Gupta…You never even take a moment to ask how I am…God, you infuriate me so much sometimes…_

But Chell's face did not give away her thoughts, "Yes, I have. What are you planning to do?"

"We're waiting to see what they are going to do. Rumors are surfacing that a large nation is going to be attacked soon, and we're getting prepared."

"Oh dear…" Seychelles bit her lip, squeezing Egypt's hands, "What about **you**, though? You specifically?"

Gupta shrugged, "We must be patient. I am already rallying the troops, and I have heard some other nations are going to be initiating drafts at the first strike. America included."

"This war is stupid…" The girl frowned, "And it'll take someone getting killed for them to realize that, I can't believe it." Sepia eyes were misting over with tears; in all truth, the girl hated war. It was disgusting to her, and she hated to think that poor Egypt would be hurt.

"I know, Seychelles. That is why I need to ask you a favor."

"Hmm? Of course, what is it?"

"Stay out of this war."

The girl blinked in confusion, echoing his statement with careful slowness, "Stay…out of this war?"

"Yes. No helping, no fighting, nothing. I want you to stay neutral and remain out of this."

"…B-But…Gupta, how can you ask me that?"

Egypt frowned; damn, he was scared. He had mentally prepared for days for this encounter, but his apprehension was still besting him.

"I…do not want you to get involved and get hurt. This is going to be a bad war, Seyche. People are going to get hurt, and I can predict at least one of us is going to die, I just know it. I do not want that person to be you."

"But Gupta, I can help! I'm strong, and you know it-"

"NO."

His harsh snap startled her, and the tears began to fall, her orbs locked onto the sandy beach; instantly, guilt coiled itself around Egypt's heart, and with a sigh, he brought the girl closer to his body, wrapping his thin, tan arms around her frail body.

"Shh…I just don't want to lose you, and it would do you no good to get involved, Seychelles."

"B-But you're going to be fighting, and I need to s-stand b-by your side…" Her hiccups were only beginning to be soothed by Muhammad Hassan's light stroking of her midnight locks.

"You do not need to be on my side on the battlefield, I already know you support me…" Egypt's whispers were soft, like his country's cotton, "I just cannot afford to lose you."

"L-Lose me? Gupta, you have not even asked me if you have me…"

"…Do I have you then?" Egypt was scared to ask the question; he knew he did not have his mother's beauty, but perhaps Seychelles still wanted him….?

He could tell she was contemplating the question as he lifted her chin up so they were eye-to-eye, her face no longer buried in his chest and uniform.

"You do…You do. Haven't I made my feelings obvious?!" Seychelles pouted, "You must be blind to not realize that I've cared about you since-"

Egypt cut her off with a kiss, and though he would never admit it, it was his first. He could guess that Seychelles had already been kissed many times (_Damn you Francis, damn you…_), but that did not matter to the young male. He went slow, not pushing her, kissing her softly, but with fire. It was sparkling fire, not bursting at the seams, and that seemed perfectly alright to the woman, who tangled her arms around Gupta's neck in the embrace.

Seychelles felt his grip on her tighten, possessively, and she could not help but grin into the kiss as he deepened it with his tongue. Sure, he probably was a tad inexperienced, but she far from cared.

They broke apart, reluctantly, due to the idea of being in the open public coming to the forefront of their minds. But Gupta managed to place another small chaste kiss on the dame's lips, before retreating a few feet.

"I'm sorry, I must go."

"Now? But-"

"I am supposed to be flying to Spain; I am to be united with him in case of an attack. And I only requested that a quick stop be made here, I apologize."

"…Alright." She could not help but frown at how Gupta was just leaving like so.

"Remember what I said, alright? Stay out of this war. And I am not asking so, I am demanding so."

"…Gupta-"

"Chell. Please. I won't ask again." Egypt was already headed back in the direction he had come, but he turned around once more, to lock dark eyes with Seychelles' own, "Promise me you will not get involved, that you will remain neutral like England."

"…I promise." It was such a quite mumble, and the lightly-skinned woman's head was hanging in shame.

"Good. I shall be in contact with you soon, and please take care." Egypt finished the conversation hurriedly, and he vanished into the brush from whence he had come, straitening his keffiyeh. But, he was smiling like a fool when he had his back to the other, and said grin grew once he was farther away from the female nation.

Seychelles remained standing on the shore of the river, frowning, her arms crossed; of **course **he would ask her to stay out of the war, of **course **he would demand it in such a commanding fashion, and of **course **he would feel that she could not handle the situation at all.

But this time…Chell was not going to just roll over, not even for the man she had fallen in love with. It had grown slowly, like the best flowers on this island, but dammit, it existed! And though he could be cold, quiet, too serious, she knew he cared, she knew he felt the same, and she knew Egypt just had her best interests at heart.

But damn him, not this time…She was going to help.

Seychelles was not some small little girl anymore…

To hell what England and America and Egypt wanted her to do…She did not know what the first two men were thinking, but she could guess they would agree with Gupta, no, she was certain that they would. Arthur Kirkland was remaining neutral, so Chell could picture the Brit stopping by soon, commanding her of what Muhammad Hassan had.

But, no, not again…She was not taking orders anymore. So what if she needed help with food! She was not going to let that hang over her head forever! She could not!

With a sharp cry of anger, Seychelles kicked her basket of fish over, the wiggling water creatures hopping around in the shore, her furious gaze eyeing the animals as they squirmed their way back into the deep-blue river.

Alright, she had promised to 'stay out of the war', and that **could** be taken as that she would not fight…That she would remain neutral like England...

But dear Seychelles had not promised to not get involved at all…So that meant…

As the female nation straightened a loosened ruby ribbon of silk, she smiled; oh, Seyche knew exactly what she was going to do…

Just because she was not going to fight did not mean she was going to help at all…Which was what she planned to do, exactly…

_Sorry Gupta, but I cannot stay out of this war one-hundred percent…_

_I hope you won't be too upset…but I need to be there for you…_

And Seychelles kept that thought in mind as she returned to fishing once more…

For she knew…

The New Allies were going to need all the help they could get…

She just knew…

OoOOOooOOOOOOOOOOOOOoOOoO

**Miles Away- The Home of Belgium**

OooOOOOOOOOooOOOOOooooooO

The scream pierced the small manor, but as soon as the sound left Belgium's pink lips, Natalia was there, covering her mouth with a pristine Belarusian hand, the other hand holding a knife to the other blonde's throat.

"W-Why are you doing this?" Belgium's pretty jade eyes were misting over with tears, one already falling. Why? Why indeed; why had her best friend acted so cordial minutes ago, and then jumped her, pressing her against the wall like so?

"Because I have to, dear Belle." Her childhood nickname, how ironic; they were no longer kids, and though they had been friends since then, that title was shattering like glass in a hurricane.

"W-Why?" It was a sad whimper, as more tears of fears fell to the tile floor.

"Because of what you said just moments ago, Belgium. About how you would not join this war on my side."

"I-I can't! I can't do it, Natalia! I said I can't-"

"Your brother has already volunteered to fight." Belarus interrupted icily.

Belgium started, gasping, "H-Holland…?"

"Is already on our side, yes. And you're going to join as well."

"Y-You think you can make me join by putting a knife to my throat?!" Belle was able to scream, but the shout only made Natalia press the sharp kitchen knife closer and harder to the skin of her lightly-hued throat.

"Yes, I do actually."

"B-But we were friends! How can you do this to me?! I thought we were best friends-"

"The only friends I have ever had were my sister, and my brother. Every other person I have associated with was either just because they were conveniently there, or because I figured I may have to use them as a pawn one day. You can be considered to be in both categories."

"WHY?! I can't get involved, I-"

"Maybe it will change your mind if I tell you we were going to threaten Luxembourg as well?"

"….D-Don't you dare force my little sister to join-"

"Who said we were going to force her to join?"

"…No."

Belarus smiled a devilish grin, "Yes."

"Y-You were going to threaten her life!? Kill her!?"

"If you did not agree. Holland was easy, he signed of his own free will. I figured I could ask you nicely, but here you are, being stubborn as always Belle." Natalia sighed, "I did always enjoy that about you, though, but…" She shrugged, "Now it does not help me. But I need allies. My brother-"

"Your brother!? This IS about your brother, isn't it?! You're sick, you disgust me-AH!"

The knife had moved with cheetah-esque speed, and sliced a dark line right across the left side of Belgium's neck, sending her shocked body plummeting to the ground.

"How dare you, you stupid little bitch." Natalia snarled, "You know nothing of my love for my brother. If anything, you're jealous Holland showed more attention to Luxembourg all these years."

"I-I am not!" Her neck was bleeding profusely, dark droplets of life-fueling liquid dripping onto the tiles, "I would never be so obsessed like you-AGH!"

Belarus gripped Belgium's chin, thrusting it forward, "Listen to me. You're going to join this war, or I will kill your sister personally. She means nothing to me; Ivan is the only one who I really care for. Him and Ukraine. Anyone else, everyone else, can burn, only the family of the Great North matters to me. YOU on the other hand, lost my friendship long ago, when you flirted with dear Ivan. Do you remember that, Belle? Do you?!"

"…Ah…I-I was a young girl back then, that was so long ago, how could you remember that-"

"Oh, I remember many, many things. I told you back then how much I loved Ivan, and yet, you let your hormones go astray. But I kept you as my best friend, just in case. I was playing with you, you fool, hahaha." Natalia's laugh rang out in the living room, her sea-colored orbs shining with wrath, "So, you're going to join this war. Or I'll make sure that not just Luxembourg suffers, but you as well. You, your body, your people, I can make them all feel pain; you should know that I can be quite a little bully, yes?"

"…" Belgium's shoulders were shaking, "Why….Why did you do this? I thought-I…I…I thought you really cared…"

"Don't get me wrong, Belle. I did care. As in past tense. Now, all I care about is winning the war for my brother. He deserves this. He deserves all the land that should have been given to him…And…" The grip she held upon her blade tightened, "He deserves to see that fool Yao suffer for hurting him…"

Now Belarus was shaking violently, and Belgium noticed it, while holding a hand to her still bleeding neck; thankfully, no arteries had been hit, and the cut had not been extremely deep, but still…

"…What do you want me to do?"

"You're going to send troops onto our side, the New Axis as those fools are calling us. You will send whatever we need, you'll fight with us. Be on the battlefield, everything. Why, aren't you EXCITED?!" Natalia exclaimed, "You're going to be on the forefront of a world-changing war! It's going to be AMAZING! You're going to be on the winning SIDE!"

"It's stupid. People are going to get hurt because we're acting like morons." Belgium murmured as she stood up shakily.

"HAH, people…You mean morons are going to get hurt because they were acting like morons. Those fools on the other side, they're going to pay-"

"I meant that we all are going to suffer. Natalia, you're going to pay for all of this, karma will follow-!!"

There was the knife again, but this time, it slashed a line across the female country's cheek, sending her once more to the floor, landing on her back, breathing heavily, the adrenaline rushing through her veins.

"So, you done spouting stupid nonsense?"

Belgium only whimpered in reply.

"Good. Now, come, we have plans to initiate."

"…Will you tell me what they are?" Belle whispered as she sat up warily, fearing another strike from the crazed, love-obsessed Natalia; she stood with the same amount of hesitation and sadness, following Belarus like an obedient dog.

"We're going to pay an enemy a visit…and launch the first major attack of World War Three. In other words…We're starting the war."

OoOOoooOoooooOOOOOOOOOOOOOoOoooO

**Two Days Later- Austria's Home**

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It had still been too quiet; not one attack had been reported from either side, and Austria was beginning to twitch with anxiousness more and more often. Perhaps it had all just been a cruel joke?

Though…there had been rumors of a Turkish-Grecian confrontation, but nothing had been confirmed, at least not yet. Francis was looking into that.

Rumors…so many rumors had been spread over the world the past two days.

England and America were not speaking to one another, according to Poland; there had been screaming done by Arthur in the house towards the end of the first New Allies meeting, and America had rushed back into the living room, where the meeting had been held, blushing madly red, as the front door slammed with a bang, cursing in an English accent being heard by all ears in the home. What had exactly happened was unknown, but what **was **known was that the nations were not speaking to one another.

Other than that, it had been too quiet; Roderick was scared, for himself, Elizabeta, and for every one else. Even the enemies gained some of his sympathy, for some were just men and women who wanted some assistance, who wanted to make their people happier…

….But they were blind to the fact that this was not the way to go about it.

Putting down his tea, Roderick turned his spectacled-adorned face back towards his paper work and battle notes; he supposed he could bring about a draft, but…

A pounding at the front door interrupted his thoughts, "Jenningson? Can you get that?"

"Right away Sir." The butler replied, walking with hastened steps to the doorway; Austria heard the large doors creak open, and the butler exclaiming, "OH MY GOD!"

"…Jenningson?"

His loyal servant and the guest were conversing of sorts, the words so soft that Austria could not hear them. Roderick stood up from his plush chair, walking closer to the doorway of the sitting room, "Jenningson, who is it?"

No reply from the elder; instead, soft, padded footsteps sounded down the hall, moving excruciatingly slow. Harsh breathing and panting were the only sounds that echoed in the hall, and Roderick bit his lip when the figure that was coming to his room coughed and wheezed in a sickly manner.

Violet eyes widened to such a degree, it was amazing. Shaking hands let the paperwork fall, and Edelstein stared at the bloody and bruised figure standing in his doorway.

"…Y-Yao…?"

It was indeed China; his beautiful locks of ebony were falling about his face, in a mess. His porcelain skin stained with bruises, his face giving way to a black eye on his right orb. Cuts lined his arms, blood dripping from them. Clothes of Chinese custom and culture, a long red changshan with white pants to be precise, were cut up, damaged, some parts beyond repair.

"Oh…OH God." Wang Yao nearly fell to the ground, Roderick's hands diving out just in time to grab the young male, "JENNINGSON! Call a doctor, immediately!"

"Right away Sir!" The butler ran, actually ran, down the hall, to the nearest phone.

"Yao, what happened?!"

"…" Dark chocolate eyes were blankly staring at the floor, as the male's breathing was labored even more so, "C-China…attacked…bombed."

"Your country was bombed?!"

"B-Badly…much death…my-my body…feeling it greatly…their pain…" His words were jumbled, and whispered, but Roderick understood, "Got…Got attacked personally too…hah…hah…"

"WHO?! Who did this to you!?"

"…B-Belarus…a-and…"

"And?!"

"…Russia."

Austria nearly dropped the injured male at the mentioning of the Braginski boy, and all he could utter was, "A-Are you sure?"

"…N-Natalia….said to my face…Bombing…R-Russia's idea…P-Probably true…a-aru…"

"Yao, hang on, a doctor's on the way, okay?"

"B-Betrayed…k-knew it…Knew he would do it…"

"She's lying, she has to be, she-"

"…N-No…Bombs…dropped…w-were Belarusian…A-And Russian…" Wang's dark eyes began to close; if the nation had not been immortal, Austria would have been screaming bloody murder, but still, he tried to keep the young male awake.

"Easy, Yao, rest, but stay with me!"

_So…the first attack has come…On Yao, no less…_

…_Ivan, how could you do this to your own lover…?! Or was it just Belarus…? But the bombs…_

_Either way…this is it…_

…_War has begun…_

Wang Yao's eyes had closed, his breathing still being harsh, but more consistent, with no more coughing; Roderick gently laid the sleeping nation on the couch, just as Jenningson entered the room.

"The doctor is on his way, he'll be here in five minutes."

"Good."

"…Sir? Who could have-"

"The New Axis, who else? Jenningson, I want you to call every single Ally. Because it is time."

"…Yes Sir."

"And give them a message for me?"

The elder stopped his feet, turning his head towards his master.

"'We are to show no mercy.'"

"…Understood." Jenningson left the sitting room, shutting the doors behind him as quietly as he could, leaving Roderick, who was thoroughly disgusted, alone with the injured Yao, and Austria only muttered as he petted the sleeping one's bangs.

"…No mercy indeed."

OoOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOoOOOOOOOOOOOoO

A/N: And Here. We. Go. (Claps her hands) XD

War is on and poor Yao. I felt bad that it had to be him, but he needed to be the first target, and you'll see how it comes to affect the plot later on ;D

Stay tuned for more action and lots of romance as well! I personally have come to love TurkeyxGreece, expect to see a great deal of that pairing as well ^-^

Thanks so much for reading, there's more to come very shortly!


	5. I Bleed For You, Because of You

A/n: Welcome back to the War! : D Thank you so much for all the views and favs and reviews last time, now, onto the action!

Inspired By:

- "Bring Me to Life" and "My Immortal" (Band Version) - Evanescence

- "Because of You" - Duet of Kelly Clarkson and Reba McEntire

- "Iris" - Goo Goo Dolls

- "Follow You Home" and "Fight for All the Wrong Reasons" - Nickelback

- "Take a Bow" and "Time is Running Out" - Muse

- "Everything" - Lifehouse (Greatly Inspired Russia and England's moments in this chapter)

**Warning**: Towards the end, this chapter mentions a **somewhat incest **(not fully, since there is no blood relation) relationship, more war-violence/regular violence, and Yaoi. You've been warned!

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_What a cruel thing is war: to separate and destroy families and friends, _

_and mar the purest joys and happiness God has granted us in this world; _

_to fill our hearts with hatred instead of love for our neighbors, _

_and to devastate the fair face of this beautiful world._

_- Robert E. Lee, letter to his wife, 1864_

_OoOOooOOOOOOOOoOOoooOoOOoOooOOoooOoOoOooOOoOOOOooOOOooo_

_**Two Days after the Attack on China…**_

"He is still not one-hundred percent healed…"

Hungary whispered to Roderick in the Austrian hospital's waiting room; immediately after falling unconscious, Wang Yao had been transported to the best facility in the country, where Elizabeta and the doctors had proceeded to tend to the Asian nation's wounds. Thankfully, Yao had come around eventually, but the doctors had ordered that he stay stationed in the bed for at least three days, to make sure no internal injuries had occurred, that all bones and bruises were to be healed.

"B-But I am immortal, aru! What's the point?"

"The point is," Roderick had explained to him yesterday, "That you need to be in tip-top shape for the fighting and for the planning of said fighting. And if your nation suffers heavily once more, your body will be in an even worse wreck if you are not healed from the original attack!"

Just the mentioning of his nation's peril had shut Wang up, causing him to flop his head back against the thin hospital pillow once more, shutting chocolate eyes in both emotions of wrath, and hurting gloom.

"But I thought the doctors said he would be fine by today? Later today, yes?"

"His body is healing quite well, yes, I feel that it will be just fine by tonight, but…" The brown-locked lass trailed off, brushing a curl of hair behind her petite ear, "His emotions and psyche…I don't know when it will heal. Because…the intelligence says it is true."

"That those were Russian bombs? Yes, yes, that was what Austria and Swedish Intel was able to gather." Austria straightened his dark navy coat, "Apparently, Yao was correct when he told us that Russia and Belarus had attack. God damn it, Ivan…"

Hungary frowned, "Own lovers attacking one another…T-That just doesn't sound like Ivan-"

"Of course it does not, which would explain why he would do it! You know that man is insane, Elizabeta! He would do the unthinkable, just to get this war going!"

"Y-Yao never hurt him…I just…I can't understand this!" The female screamed, startling the hustling and bustling doctors and nurses, "He didn't deserve that, his people didn't, why-" The woman looked not only ready to sob, but to murder; an odd, but predictable, combination for dear Hungary.

"Because we're in war, love. You know that."

Elizabeta let out a choked sob, hugging her lover, "Roderick…I just…" She shook her head; leaving the quick embrace and heading outside into nature for a breather, for fresh air to enter her lungs…for she wished to not have Roderick see her cry.

The male European nation was left standing, watching his former wife leave the room, and he sighed, fixing his glasses. Austria supposed he could go and talk to China more, cheer the poor lad up, but he was interrupted when Jenningson, always by his side, what a loyal assistant, came to his side, stating,

"Sir, there is a phone call for you. The doctor says it is young Alfred Jones; he was calling around, and being unable to reach you at home, he tried here. He says it is urgent."

"Understood, thank you, Jenningson. Please, return home, I am fine here, but before you do, check up on Miss Elizabeta, if you will."

The elder nodded, and exited the hospital, just as the woman had done so moments ago; Hungary's cries could be heard as the hospital door opened rapidly, shutting at the same speed, but the sound was still there, and yes, it still sounded out in Austria's ears and mind. Now, hearing his girlfriend's cries, Roderick was more determined than ever to end this war as fast as possible, but seek the retribution Wang Yao deserved.

The phone was cold, ebony-hued metal in Edelstein's hand, and he spoke as rationally, emotionlessly, as possible, or dare he gave away his fiery anger, not directed at America, no!, just all of **them**, the New Axis,

"Roderick Edelstein speaking."

"I'm going to do it, the draft."

"…You sure that is wise, Alfred?"

"China's suffered a heavy blow, Roderick, what else do you expect me to do?!"

"Your people will be furious-"

"We could be next! Have you seen the news?! They're predicting thousands are dead and injured from that bombing! Russia and Belarus knew exactly where to hit, so we need to be prepared!"

Roderick sighed, "Look, I understand using the army, we're all going to do that, but drafting…"

"I plan to fight as well, right beside them."

Austria nearly dropped the phone only seconds after America dropped that bombshell,

"Wh-What?! Are you insane?!" Roderick was bellowing, but he far from cared.

_Is this fool out of his damn mind…?!_

"Roderick, I will be fighting with my men. You can't stop me. No one can, so don't try to change my mind!"

"You're not immortal, you fool! Only Yao would be able to do such a thing!"

"Yeah, but I'm sure as hell not Yao! I need to do this, alright?!"

"America, you're being a fool, don't do this!"

"Face it, Roderick!" The younger nation's voice was now reaching high decibel levels, "We're all going to have to do that eventually, I know it! We're all going to be on the battlefield eventually, I'm just going to get a head-start!"

"You're being ridiculous, you're going to get yourself killed, and then what will we do?! We need you in one piece too! We've already had China side winded; the Allies cannot afford to lose you too!"

"I'm sorry. I've already made up my mind." The man who was on the other side of the ocean's tone was firm, hard, like that of a massive mountain's boulder; Alfred Jones was not to change his mind.

"OH, well, I bet Arthur will think you're being ridiculous, I know that for sure!"

"Arthur Kirkland does not care what I do, and frankly, he would not do a thing about this! So go on, tell him, I don't care."

Austria twitched at America's tone; there was an underlying emotion he could detect, but not name. What was it? What?

_Roderick, what happened…you used to be able to read them all so, so well…_

"Well then, I shall be. I am glad you have given me permission to do so, dear Alfred. For he will think you are a fool-"

"I just SAID he doesn't care! Stop saying what he will think, because he won't think anything at all!"

"…You said he does not care what you do, and now you say he would not care in general? Alfred, the man may be a stubborn old fool, but he does care about you. Why, one may even say that he-"

"Shut it, Roderick, you're just spewing crap."

"Watch your language!" _That tone of voice, he…he couldn't be…_

…_Dear Arthur, what did you do to this poor boy…?_

_He sounds like…like…he is…_

"Fine, sorry. Tell him all you want, I don't care anymore. And I'm going to go fight with them, you can't stop me. And the draft is going into effect; we're fighting this war how I want it to be fought. My boss agrees with me."

"…If you are sure that…that is the best. But I am still saying you going into the forefront of the fighting is ridiculous, at least in this point in the game! Maybe when we know what we're up against artillery and army-wise…"

"I'm sorry. I don't care of the risks, not anymore. It's time I do what I was born to do. Bye, Roderick, take care. I'll be leaving with the first round of men and planes in three days."

"So soon?!"

"We're planning to fly to Germany. We'll be setting up an attack base there, and leading the forefront."

"Should we not attack Russia first?"

America paused, taking a breath, continuing with, "Denmark, France, myself, and Sweden are going to be leading the German and Prussian front. We may or may not disperse when we get to Germany, it depends on what occurs. I was hoping I could ask you, Hungary, China, and a few others to lead the Asian front. We're getting the other battle plans set as well, Hell, we're getting all the plans set in stone, we're all still talking, but…I've got ideas, and so do a lot of the other nations. We're mad about the China attack, we're ready to fight."

"You have really thought this through, haven't you? But…I am not sure if you have thought it through enough-"

"Yes, I have. We're going to finalize all of the plans eventually, as a team, I suppose, but Denmark and Francis and Berwald want to take the initiative, and get a heads-start."

"…If you insist…"

"Trust me, our battle plans will be foolproof. Again, I'll talk to you soon, Roderick, take care. Tell Elizabeta I said hi."

With that, the phone clicked off, leaving a despairing Roderick on the other-line.

_Yes…taking the initiative…_

_We're ready to attack, to fight…but Alfred…I know what that tone of yours was conveying…_

_England…He hurt you, did he not…? Back there, at that meeting…_

_For you sound…_

_As if you are suffering from a broken-heart…_

_I am unsure of what exactly happened, but…I think I know someone who could tell me…_

Mutely setting up connection to the operator, and with a stern expression on his face, Roderick told the woman on the other side,

"Connect me to Arthur Kirkland of the United Kingdom, please."

OOooOoOOOOOoOOOOOOOOoOOooOooooOOoOOo

**Home of the Italy Brothers-Florence**

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"How could you?!"

"Ah…" Feliciano could not look Romano in the eye as the older brother continued to scream, "Nii-chan, I-"

"Don't you 'nii-chan' me! Do you realize what you are doing, Feliciano?!" Southern Italy was furious, eyes alight with murderous anger, directed right at the younger Italian, "You're betraying your people by siding with that…that German fool!"

"L-Ludwig said t-that he's going to get us what we deserve!"

Lovino scoffed, "And what would that be?! Death!? Since you are going to get yourself killed-"

"NO!" Feliciano shook his head, his curl bouncing up and down, "Ludwig said he would protect me!"

"And that is the biggest load of bull I have heard since America tried to say we could colonize Saturn! Do you realize that you're going to be splitting our nation in half if you do this!? One brother siding with the Allies, one with the Axis! What is our boss going to think, don't you realize that we two serve under **one**?!"

Northern Italy could only stand there, trying to dart his chocolate orbs around the room, not daring to look his infuriated brother in the eye.

"I'll have you know, that this is ridiculous! Do you realize that our boss does not know who to side with because of your support of Germany!? DO YOU?!"

"B-But…w-well, if **you** sided with me, then-"

"HA!" Lovino Vargas exclaimed with passion, "I cannot do such a thing."

"Why not?!"

"Because I don't agree with your incompetent decisions, you stupid fool!"

"But…Nii-chan…"

Lovino just glared at the younger male, who trailed off out of fidgety nervousness; such a dilemma, this fool! It was to cause poor Southern Italy headaches later, he just knew it.

"Feliciano, I've had enough with you. I've been furious at you before, but this! Oh, this takes the cake. Therefore, since Sicily and Naples are under my district, you are not going to be able to use them during this 'war' you so choose to run head-first into!"

"B-But-! No, Nii-chan, please, can't we talk about this?!"

Hazel eyes bore into Feliciano's trembling frame; if anything was for certain, it was that Lovino was one-hundred percent certain that he not only despised his brother for making such a foolish decision, but also for making it so spontaneously.

_When Ludwig says jump, you ask how high…When Ludwig says shut up, you do so on the drop of a dime…_

_You're his personal little toy, you fool…! 'Good qualities' my ass, he just uses you because he can…! Ohh, sure they all claim he has some sort of infatuation of you, some "feelings", but I do not buy it…You two are complete opposites, what would he see in you…? Hmm…?_

"There is nothing to talk about. I am going to tell our Boss that Sicily and Naples are not to be used in the war. That is final. And if he decides to join Germany and his boss on their side, he is to leave me out of it. In fact…" Lovino trailed off, "I plan to use Sicily and Naples, and the Southern half of our nation for the Allies!"

"No, no, no! Please…Nii-chan, Ludwig just has our best interests at heart!"

"HA, he does not, you liar! He's all about himself, and he knows that you will follow him around like a dog, and do what he says!"

Feliciano shook his head repeatedly, "No! It's not like that at all, Ludwig really cares about me! He does, he does, he does!"

"If he does, then why doesn't he show it, hmm? Does he ever say that he cares-"

"He's said I'm one of his best friends!" Northern Italy screamed, "And you and our boss are not going to change that fact, Nii-chan!"

"How do you know he is not lying-"

"Germany would never lie to me! Ludwig cares about me! It's almost as if…"

"…What?" The younger lad had trailed off, his coffee-colored gems locking onto the beige carpet flooring of the Italian house.

"As if I've known him…Forever…There's just something about him, I can't explain it, Nii-chan!"

Lovino shook his head, "You're crazy. And you know this...this situation could…could hurt our country! In such a large way! Think about it, Feliciano-"

"N-Nii-chan, I have! I swear! And I have to be with Ludwig, he said that he'll bring prosperity to us all! Give us all that we have deserved for so long! We'll be happy-"

"Happy? HAPPY?" Southern Italy strode up to his younger sibling, staring, no, glaring, him in the eyes, poking a finger into Feliciano's blue uniform, "Dear brother, we are not going to be happy for a very long while. Trust me; this is going to ruin us all! But fine, have it your way. Be with your precious Ludwig, your precious Germany. I, on the other hand, refuse to fight on your side, for something that is ridiculous to believe in!" The elder Vargas's voice was rising by the second, "And you're just going to get yourself killed, and you know, Grandfather would be so, so disappointed in your decision."

The last hissed statement startled Northern Italy, "…N-No…G-Grandpa always said to f-follow your heart, and my heart says-"

"Your heart is just lying to you, Feliciano! You're going to divide Italy in half because of this, and your damn country should come before your own personal promises and feelings! Grandfather would be ashamed of you, and only you."

The younger Italian stepped back, his heart feeling as if it was shriveling up with pain, hurt; would Grandpa Rome feel that bad?

"Well, I feel that I have said my part." Lovino straightened his dark-navy tie, and dusted off invisible particles of powder from his tan army uniform, "You know of my actions, you know what is to occur. And now, I leave you in peace, dear brother." With a short bow, the older Vargas turned completely around on his heels, exiting the large room; the home's door slammed loudly not a moment later, Italian screaming heard outside as Lovino got into his car.

"…" All the while, poor Feliciano was left in the room, his fragile body shaking, hands grasping opposite shoulders, "Nii-chan…" A hiccupped sob was released from his lips, and not a moment after the sound echoed in the room did Italy's legs collapse, the man falling to the ground on his kneecaps, his arms hugging himself tighter.

_I-I'm doing the right thing, I know I am, I know it…_

…_G-Germany will help me, he's supposed to…! He cares about me, we are friends…He's told me that b-b-before…_

The reaffirming thoughts did not stop the tears from trailing down Feliciano's face.

_W-Why does Nii-chan hate me so much…A-All I am trying to do is follow my heart, and-and when we-we win, I'll forgive him…I'll t-tell him 'I told you so' first, b-b-but, I'll fo-forgive him…_

Footsteps sounded out behind the young Italy, but the normally-perky man did not lift his head.

"…Italy?"

"Ah…" Feliciano gasped when the male spoke, and he whipped his head around to come face-to-face with Ludwig himself, "G-Germany!"

"…You were crying."

"Nngh…" The Vargas boy wiped his slightly swollen and tear-laden chocolate eyes, shaking his head, "N-No, I'm fine."

"Italy, are you…Feliciano, you should tell me if something has occurred. Especially if it deals with the war."

Feliciano once more shook his head, "I-It's nothing, Ludwig, I swear…"

Germany stood ram-rod, icy eyes baring down into the shorter Italian's, "Feliciano, I know by this time when you are keeping something from me. And because you were crying, which I KNOW you were, since I heard you, saw you, it must be important. Now, tell me." The blonde was not asking, but ordering.

"…I-It's Nii-chan."

"Romano?"

Northern Italy nodded solemnly, daring to not look the other in the eye.

"Well? What about Lovino?"

"H-He...He's going to be on the side of the Allies. And…A-And…" The stupid tears were coming back, no! He could not let Ludwig see him cry!

"…And? Come on, out with it-!!" The German did not finish his speech, for Italy had run to his body, hugging himself to the older male tightly, Feliciano burying his face into the shoulder of Ludwig.

"H-He's going to use Sicily and Naples on the side of the Allies! I-Italy's going to be divided in the war and it's all my fault! I tried to bring him to my-no, OUR side b-but he refused! W-We're going to be in an Italian civil war, I just know it, and half of Italy can't be used by us, and, and…" The young brunette did not finish his statement; it ended with another hopeless sob, the poor, young Italian shaking like fall's leaves after a windy storm.

"…Hush, stop that." Ludwig frowned, holding onto his constant comrade, "No use crying over this, right…?"

But the younger male did not cease his tears, his hands clinging to Ludwig's body unceremoniously; while the German could only gaze down at his ally, the man acting as if his world was falling apart…

…Which it was…

Feliciano had always held a connection to his brother, though it been thinner at some times than others; and here it was, snapping, like that of a tiny twig, and Northern Italy could feel the anguish of his people finding out that their country was about to be split apart because two brothers, two powerful brothers, were at odds, and were on different sides of a war. Their tears would come to keep him awake at night, the bombings and gunshots would ring in his ears; though they would be heard by all warring nations, his ears would hear them clearer, his eyes would come to see the blood clearer, redder, sharper.

Families would be separated by this impasse; lovers would quarrel, Italians would flee, though some would fight…fight for…for…?

"W-What…" Feliciano whimpered into the crook of Ludwig's neck, the blonde's ears picking up, him replying with,

"What…what, Feliciano?"

"W-What are w-we fighting f-for?!" The Italian pulled his head back, his chocolate eyes already turning bloodshot and red, puffy around the edges from never-ending tears, "Tell me!"

"…You know what our goals are." Ludwig could not comprehend where the younger one was drawing his emotion from; his general-esque mindset immediately taking over.

"That's all we're fighting for? What about these people?!" Northern Italy was passing the border of hysteria, and entering the dangerous zone, "P-People…T-They're going to suffer! We're-We're...Ludwig, how can we do this?!"

"Because we have to, Feliciano; 'Wir kämpfen für Gerechtigkeit.' We are fighting for Justice."

"Justice? H-How is this Justice!? We're fighting over land, those are our goals, and t-they can't be worth it! I just…I know people are going to suffer for this, and look at me! Nii-chan and I, our-our family! Our…" The tears just could not stop, his orbs had turned into miniature waterfalls, matching in sync with the incoming rain that was about to fall upon the nations, in so, so many ways, "Our…family is torn apart. My nation…my country…Y-You didn't tell me that this would happen, Ludwig!" The last statement had been screamed in wrath, despairing wrath.

"I…Even I could not predict this, Feliciano. Forgive me." Germany frowned; his companion's heart was breaking before his own cold, stern eyes, and Ludwig could do no actions to cease it from happening. His own militaristic heartstrings were being yanked; his feelings for Feliciano causing cracks in his stone walls, and subconsciously, the taller one strengthened his hold on the Italian.

"This…Please, we have to stop this. If I can j-just…"

"Hush. We must play with the cards we are dealt, and your nation has been dealt a hard blow. But in the end, we will see a glorious new revelation. Italy will survive, so will Germany, so will Prussia, Russia, everyone."

"E-Even the other nations? W-What about America? C-China?"

Ludwig paused, hesitant and unsure how to answer, "I hope very little harm comes to them. But war is war. Perhaps years from now, we will be united stronger than ever, who is to say? I-We…We did not start this war to cause death and destruction, but to gain what is rightfully ours."

"B-But Ludwig…" Feliciano's voice was a whisper, cracking once more due to fresh tears being born, "At what cost?"

"…" Germany was silenced, his lips melted into a thin line at the honest, simple question; perhaps it was because he did not know how to answer, or perhaps because Ludwig did not want to answer, that he remained mute.

Those final words rang out in the large room, bouncing off the large windows, the lighting fixtures, the furniture sporadically sprinkled around the enclosure. All the while, the Vargas lad clung to Ludwig, his emotions unleashing plentiful, choked sobs, the blonde only able to stare at the ground as he rubbed his colleague shivering and shaking back.

Germany had come to Italy for different reasons, after he had dropped off the kidnapped Switzerland to Russia's headquarters; he had hoped to talk to the Italian, explain his feelings, after all the years of teasing and uncertainties…

Unfortunately, that talk turned into comforting, as the heartbroken and despairing Italian collapsed to the floor onto his knees, his face burrowed into the crook of Germany's strong neck once more…And the lack of words forced Ludwig to hear inside his mind, over and over again, the question the poor Northern Italy had wailed in agony…

_At what cost…?_

OOOOOoooooOOOOOoooooOOOOOooooo

**Miles Away- Russia, Ivan's Home-Basement**

OOoOooOoOOoOoOOOoOooOoOOoooooooOOoO

Snow…It was always plentiful in Russia, but here, in June, it was nearly gone. Though, with the absence of feathery white flakes brought raindrops a plenty, which turned innocent dirt into sloppy mud, highways into deathtraps, and happy days into dreary ones.

Even as he walked down his large steps, to his even larger basement, Ivan could hear the drops pelt down upon a shingled roof, only to dance along to gutters, where the water would slosh and swish about, finally plopping onto the ground, where the few flowers were beginning to bloom, their whites and violent violets catching the moisture, turning into crystallized foliage.

_But they are not sunflowers…_

Russia's frown twitched, his grip on his pipe tightening as his other gloved hand flipped on a light switch, illuminating his pathway further; barely any light reached Ivan's basement, due to how far in the ground it was.

The young male was angered at how he had been brought to think of sunflowers…those brought on memories of Yao Wang, thoughts and memories he had wished to put away in a safe in the recesses of his mind. Mainly due to the fact that Ivan was beginning to believe Natalia; he should be outraged at Yao for not agreeing with him about this war, for the way China had spoke to him at the end of the Summit all that time ago…Even thought it had not been so long ago at all, it certainly felt like so.

Though Ivan's dark half longed and lusted to agree with Belarus, his white and lighter side pleaded for the opposite; to still love Yao, to hang on, to let him do what he had to do, and soon enough, he and Wang would be reunited, and here Russia would be, smiling, memories of war and pain all but forgotten as he would place a sunflower in Yao's midnight tresses, laughing, tackling him to the grass in fits of tickling, in giggles, in…

Russia snarled vehemently, cutting off his mind with a punch to the basement steps' wall, the brick hitting his covered knuckles with bruising pain; blood would have come forth if he had hit the wall any harder, but thank the Lord above that Braginski had some control over his emotions when he was alone; when he was with others, though…well…

The male shook his head, gray locks flopping about over purple eyes, firmly set; this was not the time to reminisce and wallow in thoughts, it was time to do the job Ludwig had assigned to him:

Interrogate Switzerland, harsh enough to where he would join the New Axis.

Simple task, really, for Ivan that is. Maybe for any other man it would be difficult, but for Russia? Hah, how preposterous one would be if they would think Russia could not do such a task, and in his own special, evil way.

And they, those other nations, claimed Ivan's mind was damaged, that he was crazy, especially Vash. Ohh, he was about to show them all how 'crazy' he was, even though China had never thought such a thing (or if he did, Yao had never stated so)…

_No…! No thoughts of him, none, none at all…!_

One would also not have guessed that the vodka fiend was having emotional issues at that very moment, not in the way he had stated joyously, "Vash! My, my, a pleasure to see you!"

The basement was dark, save for one lone light bulb hanging above the steel table Switzerland was seated in front of; the wintry nation sat upon the splintering, wooden, old-fashioned chair, his wrists tied with itchy rope, his emerald eyes blindfolded.

"…Ivan." The Zwingli male replied coldly, his mouth a deep scowl, and the expression just caused Russia to chuckle darkly.

"Now, now, why are you acting so cold to me?"

"Your friends kidnapped me. Prussia and that bastard Germany! Right in the middle of the night, dammit!" Vash still felt the small bruises he had acquired as he struggled in the fight when Germany and Prussia snuck into his home, tying him up while knocking him unconscious. And in a daze, Germany had dropped him off here, in the giant country of Russia.

"Ahaha, but I was not involved, so why be so cold to me?"

"I have my reasons." Vash spat, wishing he could lay eyes upon the insane, cold nation, damning the silk blindfold that hindered him.

"And you won't tell me?" Russia sounded despondent, it of course being faker than most of his smiles, and the Swiss' ears caught the sound of Ivan's heavy boots, and indeed, Russia was pacing around the table, prowling like a lioness in the Serengeti.

"I shall tell you when I am prepared. Now, tell me why I am here!" Switzerland screamed, moving his wrists in a futile attempt to free himself.

"Tsk, tsk, Vash, where are your-" Russia cut himself off to slam down his water pipe, his never-ending weapon, on the metal table, the clang startling his hostage, "manners? Hmm?"

The Swiss felt his breathing escalate; Russia's mere presence was enough to send the majority of men running to the hills, and here he was, being tied up, held against his will, by perhaps one of the most powerful nations in the world. Vash found his brow sweating, his blood pumping into his ears with rapid speed, adrenaline bubbling up in his body.

"…What do you want with me…"

"Hmm? Ohohoho! Come now, you should know!"

"If this is about the war, you should forget about it, Ivan. I'm not helping you. I'd rather stay out of this entirely, but Lili-"

"Ah, yes, dear, dear Lili…Your step-sister, what a sweet little flower. So pure, so pretty. But **you** know that so, so well, don't you, Vash?" Russia smirked, nearly prancing with high happiness over to the small cabinet he had set up in the basement, opening it with a clang.

"…I don't understand. Is this whole incident about Lili? Liechtenstein?"

Ivan hummed a small Russian tune as he searched the manila folders he kept on hand, finally pulling out one with an "Ah!", and with a deft throw, Russia tossed it onto the old, worthless table.

"Answer me, Ivan!"

"Hmm? Lili? Well, I suppose you could say this whole incident is about her. Well…It's really about the both of you."

"…Both of us." Zwingli felt a tremor shoot through his body; the miasmic mystery of Russia's statement worried him, filled his soul with dread he had not felt since his country had gone through hard times years ago.

"Indeed! Now, ta da!" Russia's gloved hands came up to untie the blindfold, tossing it aside, and Vash's evergreen eyes caught demonic-glowing mauve Russian orbs in a gaze that penetrated the Swiss' soul.

"Ta…Da…?"

"Mmhmm!" Braginski was still giving off a gleaming, glittering grin, the smile causing the other male to shiver internally as Russia hopped up onto the table, a hand coming to brush away his gray-white bangs, "Now, let's have a nice little talk, eh, Vash? About the war, about Lili…About…well…These."

Russia's tone descended from excruciatingly happy, to deathly serious, as he unveiled the contents of the folder…

Pictures…of Vash and Lili…

Some very sweet; one taken in the early April days, a sunny day, the two young people sharing an ice-cream cone, Vash getting drops of vanilla on his chin, while he had an arm around Lili's waist. Another showed them playing together at Vash's home, in the sprinklers, this photograph having been taken last summer.

Then…there were others that shook Vash to his core…

One, a private moment between him and his step-sister, Lili seated upon his lap, arms twined around Switzerland's neck, while the sweet girl with a humble persona kissed Vash's forehead, the boy pouting, but internally enjoying the attention.

Another deeper private moment, the two walking in the park during the night, Lili resting her head upon Vash's shoulder, the young male smiling while holding the girl's hand…

And then, even deeper moments…

A photograph of a full-on kiss on the lips between the girl and the male appeared in front of jade gems, and Vash nearly screamed out when he saw the moment that was all too clear in his memory; his gloved hands resting upon Lili's waist, pulling her close, the girl's fragile, tiny hands resting upon the Swiss country's green uniform.

And then…Oh, Vash wanted to scream as another photograph came up….Of him and Lili's silhouettes behind a curtained window, and he remembered it was the night, behind closed doors he and his step-sister had…had…

"So, Vash, do all step-brothers kiss their step-sisters like so? Do they make love to them like that, hmm? Our little spies have been watching you and well…we're extremely disappointed you did not keep this hidden better, and now I am sure you are too!"

Vash's green eyes held a murderous gleam, and Russia knew that if the blonde nation had not been tied up like so, he would have had to fight Vash then and there.

"…I'll kill you."

"Kolkol! Haha, Da, that is so funny to hear, Vash!"

"I mean it, Ivan. I. Mean. It."

Braginski just smiled devilishly, picking up a photo, gazing at it, giving off a fake 'Aww', then replacing it in his hand with another of similar caliber, "It's so sad our spies were unable to actually get into the house to view your act of sex; and our recorders were broken too, but they recalled and wrote down some certain words."

After setting one of the many photos aside, Ivan jiggled his hips, so his body was sitting on the edge of the table, his hands folded in a prayer-like fashion, and he bat his masculine eyelashes, but spoke in a feminine voice, "Oh, Vash, we shouldn't do this! I-Ohhh, Vash!" Russia let out a girlish moan, "OH, Vash, please, be gentle, you know I'm a virgin-"

"SHUT UP!"

"And you know it might look bad upon us if we do this-Ohhh, God, again, Vash!"

"ENOUGH!" The murderous Swiss bellowed, "STOP IT!"

Russia let out a dark chuckle while his eyes bored into Vash's, "Don't tell me I got your goat, did I, Zwingli?"

"You heartless bastard! How…How dare you! How long have you guys been spying on us?!"

"Mm, well, Prussia's spies were the ones who took some of the photos from latter dates; mine took more recent ones. So it's been quite a while, indeed."

"…How is showing me these…PRIVATE MOMENTS going to get me to do anything for you?"

"Ah, ah, you're so impatient!" Russia wagged a finger in a scolding-mother fashion, "These photographs show step one, point one: That you are in love with Lili, with Liechtenstein."

"…" Vash did not reply, his face heating up in an all-telling blush though.

"So, if I was to…say, for example, hypothetically of course, that I had Russian troops right near Liechtenstein's door, not even ten miles away from her home, and with an order from myself, they would converge upon her property, storm her home, and end up well…let's just say she would not be taken as a prisoner of war."

The Swiss' eyes widened to epic proportions, so great and large that Ivan nearly laughed aloud at that very moment.

"No…You're bluffing! You're lying!" There was despair in Switzerland's cracked voice, his tone fleeting, unsure of whether to believe Russia or not.

"Aha, I am! But on something else, I am not."

The Braginski boy hopped off the table, and strode gallantly, his white scarf fluttering behind him, flapping against his back, his tan coat. His destination ended up being an old television situated in the corner of the dank basement, with a VCR player attached to it. It was severely outdated, so much so Ukraine had been confused as to why Ivan had wanted it brought to his home; but, like a good sister, she did not question her brother's motives. She had learned long ago not to do such a thing.

But he had specifically needed the VCR player, for the Russian security still used outdated tapes, not CD's for their daily recordings.

"What if I told you I had a special video to show you, just you, Vash?"

"…Of what, may I ask?"

Russia's grin was a carbon copy of Satan's, "Oh, well, it is a Russian warehouse, of course. Not far from here; the footage is a security camera, I apologize for the poor quality of the video, we really need an upgrade, but our head of security and affairs is such a cheap man, hahaha!"

The actual tape had already been placed in the old, run-down machine, all Russia had to do was press play, and he did so, the TV springing to life, the light shining right upon Vash's face, and Ivan stepped to the side, leaning against the wall; he already knew what was on the tape, he had seen it, ordered the event to take place.

"…No…" It was all Switzerland could utter as he stared at the screen, where his dear Lili was tied to a chair, blindfolded, two Russian soldiers pointing guns right at her cranium, one of the guns actually touching the back of her head in a deadly manner. Her pink dress, only showing up as a gray-ish tone on the black and white footage, was torn, shreds of it flittering about her legs, some of the torn parts on the dirty metal ground. Her cheeks were tear-stained, her lithe body shaking so much, it tugged at Vash's blood red vital organ, as if a demon had reached in, and tugged it out, killing him…

…In essence, had not Ivan just done that…?

His beautiful step-sister's hair was frazzled, her favorite ribbon, a pretty purple hue, was lying near the chair…Switzerland recalled when he had bought it for her, just a few months ago…

Ivan, silent in the shadows, was more than just happy; he was ecstatic. What Switzerland had seen was real footage, it had taken place not long ago at all, only a day and a half after those Allies had had their little get-together. But was Lili still in his custody?

No, of course not.

The footage had been filmed, then the woman was released, but she was indeed threatened to a heavy extreme. And more than likely, if needed, Ivan could kidnap Lili once more, and this time, do heavy damage, even kill her…if Vash did not comply.

"…L-Lili…" The blonde male was nearly in tears when Lichtenstein let out a scream after one of the guards had gripped her shoulder roughly, whispering words not caught on the video camera; but whatever had been spoken must have shaken the young lass to her core.

"She's still in our warehouse, Vash. This footage was tapped mere hours ago," Ivan lied smoothly, "And I think you understand what is going to occur here."

"…" Switzerland hung his head, "What do you want me to do…"

"…You're going to sign onto our side, in a formal contract, which, if broken, states that Liechtenstein will be killed on sight. Understood? You're going to fight in this war for the Axis, or not only will we attack Switzerland, we'll kill the woman you love." There was a demonic glimmer in light purple eyes as Braginski stated his words, "But if you sign this, and are loyal to us, we'll let Lili go right away, and we'll completely leave her alone."

Russia stuck a hand into the pocket of his coat, pulling out a document and a pen, throwing both onto the table, "So, we are in agreement, Vash?"

Switzerland's face held no expression, his eyes taking on a dead glaze, "…Yes."

"Good!" Ivan chirped, running around to the back of the other male's chair, untying the rope binding his hands so the poor European nation could sign his freedom away, to save his step-sister.

Which, Vash indeed did; the pen moved slowly, the black ink flowing sluggishly as the young male signed his name…

_Vash Zwingli_

"Excellent!" Russia picked up the parchment, rolling it up, and stating "Welcome to the war! You're sure to have so much fun, and-"

"May I ask you something…?" Vash interrupted, grinding out his words in a choked-up manner.

"Hmm? I do not see why not. Go on."

"…Why do you love hurting people in love…?"

"…Excuse me…?"

"Why…Why do you target people in love!" Vash's voice had risen to higher proportions at this point and time, "Lili and myself, and before that, Yao-"

"What?!" Ivan interrupted with a start, scowling, "What do you mean by 'Yao', I have not hurt him; in fact, **he** has hurt **me** by-"

"LIAR!" Switzerland's scream was a shriek, like that of a banshee, "No more lies, Ivan! No more! You've hurt him! And now you're pretending you didn't, what kind of scum ARE you!?"

The Braginski lad's face was wavering between ferocity and perplexity; Yao? What about Yao? What was going on? Was Vash just…spouting this nonsense to make the wintry nation lose his cool?

"You, Vash Zwingli, are the one acting like that of scum, for I have not hurt Wang Yao-"

"Oh, that's a load of bull, we BOTH know you bombed the hell out of his country just a little over two days ago!"

A spark of icy cold, a chill, shot up Ivan's spine at the hysterical statement that echoed out in the room…

_He…He has to be lying…No…I…I did not do that…I did not bomb China, I…I would remember if I did, I, I…I would never think of doing such a thing, not to Yao, I…_

"You're lying…" Russia stated coldly, holding back his emotions while inside, his mind and heart were screaming that somehow, this man before them was not lying.

"Why would I lie!? WHY?! Your bombs destroyed China! Hundreds, if not thousands are dead and injured, and Yao is just getting out of a hospital! You could have killed him, why did you do it?! Why?! What did he do to you, besides oppose your stupid notions? So anyone who disagrees with you dies, even if they are your own LOVER?!"

"Shut up! You are lying; I have not done such a thing!"

Vash just laughed, throwing his head back, "The big bad Ivan Braginski won't admit that he is such dirt, NO, lower than dirt, due to the fact that he attacked his own lover, who is probably one of the most peaceful countries in the world! You nearly killed him! If he wasn't immortal, by God, he would be dead and gone, and you would be in jail!"

Ivan's anger was boiling faster and faster; how dare this…putrid, tiny little country of Switzerland, who had to be conned into joining his side, make such a dastardly and false claim! How dare he, how dare he, how DARE he!

"I said SILENCE!"

"No! You know what you have done, you're such a evil monster, you won't admit that you nearly killed Wang Yao! You killed his people, destroyed most of his country's land with your damn bombs, his major cities; China wasn't prepared for the brutal massacre you bestowed upon it! And that's just the way you planned it, isn't it!?" Vash ranted on, despite the fury that shone in violet eyes, "You drew Yao in, charmed him, played with his emotions-"

"I never played with Wang Yao's emotions, nor did I BOMB HIS COUNTRY!"

"Ohh, but you did! Turn on the damn TV and look upon the havoc you have wrought onto a nation, onto a man, that did nothing but love you! He accepted you! And when he says no one time, ONE TIME, you turn your back on him!"

"ENOUGH!" Ivan screamed, his right hand darting out, grabbing the metal water-pipe he had set upon the table, "Enough of your LIES!"

"LIES?! I lie?! YOU are the liar here, Ivan Braginski! YOU! You lie about the pain you bring to others, you lie about how much of a monster, a devil, you are, and now you lie about how much pain and suffering you caused to Yao, how you brutalized him, how-"

But Vash was cut off, screaming instead as Ivan's metal pipe collided with his face, hitting his jaw in a full-blown frontal attack; a full-blown attack turned into a barrage of hits, and Ivan attacked the man, hitting any patch of skin and body he could find, Switzerland's arms, his sides, his legs. Seconds after the third rapid blow, after cracking sounds echoed out, Vash tumbled from his chair, his jade eyes wide as Ivan stood over him, brandishing the water-pipe, hits coming faster and harder, as the Swiss tried to scramble away, failing miserably, letting out cries of agony at each blow finding its target; all the while, Ivan screamed in a rage, while his eyes shone sadness, yet wrath; despair, yet dark joy.

"You lie! I have not hurt Yao, shut up, shut up, shut up!" Russia's voice was a scream, at a caliber and volume to match the continuously injured Vash's; behind the dark recesses of Ivan's mind, Yao was there, pictures, images of China, smiling, followed by conjured up images of a bleeding Wang Yao, lying in a heap of rubble; No, no, they had to be lies, what Vash had screamed, had stated, had to be lies!

Ivan continued to rant that one phrase, 'shut up', over and over, his pipe striking everywhere it could reach; blood was flowing from Vash's mouth and nose, a few bones had already been broken, bruises would blossom, muscles would tear and lose strength, and if Ivan continued further, Vash Zwingli would die, then and there, for his impudence, for his lies, for all his unjust claims!

Thankfully, Switzerland would have a savior that day; footsteps, dainty ones, clambered down the steps, and in seconds, there stood Ukraine, her bosom bouncing, her mouth letting out pants. She had heard Vash's screams all the way from outside in the backyard, and Ivan's rants from the kitchen on the first floor, when she had run in from tending the garden.

"IVAN STOP!" The dame bellowed, tears nearly coming to her eyes at the sight of her brother brutalizing the helpless snowy European country, "YOU'RE GOING TO KILL HIM!"

But Ivan did not cease; he continued to rant, to hit, to destroy, and only when Ukraine lunged herself at her brother, grabbing his arms just as he was about to lay a blow upon the younger one's cranium did Russia stop, his breathing labored as his bloody gloves dropped the pipe, his own coat having a few splatters of the red liquid upon it as well.

"Ivan…W-What were you thinking?!"

"He was lying! I…I had to punish him!" Plum-hued orbs held an insane gleam to them, and Russia's older sister frowned sadly, stating,

"Ivan…" She shook her head, "He…You could have killed him! God, why do you always do this sort of thing, I wish you didn't little brother!"

The tall woman knelt down, examining Vash, who had gone into a state of unconscious, her soft hands feeling for a pulse, "He's alive, but how could you! Is this how we treat people, even if we dislike them? And I know you signed him on as an ally to the war, which YOU dragged me into!"

"He was lying! I had to stop him!"

"Well, WHAT was he lying about?!"

"He said that I bombed China! That Russian bombs bombed China, and that Yao was so severely hurt!"

"…" The light-blonde-locked woman remained mute, picking up the prone body of the Zwingli boy, cradling the damaged male in her arms, speaking nearly mutely, "I am going to take him to a hospital."

"Katyusha! He…" Ivan trailed off as he ambled closer to his older sibling, who was already on the first step of the bottom of the stairwell, "He…He was lying! Can you blame me?! Don't be mad, and you know he was lying! I wouldn't hurt Yao, I-"

"Ivan…" Ukraine spoke in her voice that Ivan had come to realize meant he was about to be scolded, "He wasn't lying. And you and I both know that."

"…N-No…" Russia found his knees began to shake at Katyusha's words, "NO!"

The woman grimaced, "Ivan, I…don't know why you are denying it. Those were your bombs, you attacked China and Beijing and so many other cities, thankfully, you spared Hong Kong."

"…N-No, I didn't, I didn't do that! Not you too!"

"Ivan, why would I lie to you!? Stop this, you know what you did-"

"I didn't do it, NO!" Ivan's scream was one not of anger, but despair, and he pushed past Ukraine, his boots stomping up the stairs as he ran into the living room, his eyes tearing up by the second.

_No, no, no, no, no…! __They have to be lying, they have to be, they...they..._

The wintry land fell to his knees as he grabbed his plasma television's remote, flipping it on, turning immediately to the closest news channel, just like Vash had ordered…

_Turn on the damn TV…_

_NO, OH GOD NO…_

Pictures of China flashed before Russia's eyes, as the news-reporters from various lands told their tales, as Ivan flipped through them all rapidly…

"Beijing casualties escalate to over four thousand injured, a possible two hundred, if not more, dead…"

"The first attack of World War Three, ladies and gentlemen, was launched by Russia just a little over two days ago. Now, Senator, where do you see us going from here-"

"While Russia's Prime Minister personally has failed to comment on the attack-"

"Russia's bombs were launched across over twenty major cities, and over hundreds of miles of land, destroying valuable crops, farmland, animals, and, of course, lives-"

"Well, Mr. Wallace, I, as a United States Senator, know our President, and his right-hand man, Alfred F. Jones, will not stand for this, hence the draft we are going to be putting into effect-"

"Russia's leaders themselves seem in awe over the attack, wondering if it was possibly a fluke, if someone else caused the attack; though, they are not taking it back, saying they regret what happened-"

"The New Allies are completely condemning this attack, calling it a 'personal attack' on a peaceful nation. They firmly believed someone else would take the first blow, someone who was able to fight back rapidly, which China was not-"

"Wang Yao, China's main representative at many Summits, and the Leader's amazing assistant and advisor, representative of the nation, is in critical condition at an Austrian hospital at this point in time; thankfully, due to his miraculous ability of immortality, bestowed upon him by the Gods, he is alive and will make a full recovery, though how much use some of his limbs will be to him is still unknown-"

…Tears silently streamed down Ivan's cheeks as pictures of a smiling Yao came upon the screen, while the news-reporter, with her short, auburn hair, her stylish, black-plastic-framed glasses, went on to talk of Yao's accomplishments, all he had done for China; his failures were out of place in a solemn news-cast like this one.

"…N-No…"

_I…could not have done this…I could not have ordered this, why…!! How did this happen, WHY did this happen…!!_

_Was I drunk…? Had the vodka made me so inebriated that I…ordered an attack on my own lover…?! NO…!_

_I…I…_

Ivan's shoulders shook like an earthquake, his body doubling over, fists in leather-gloves bashing into the plush carpeting, while eyes that were awash in tears unleashed a sadness the Braginski man had not felt in ages, in eons, and the droplets began to stain said carpeting, the light green turning darker with each drop.

Reality came crashing in, his sanity being doubted faster than one-hundred miles per hour, Ivan could have sworn he had never issued such an attack, that he, of all people, would be the last to attack Wang Yao, and his people.

"Who…?" The question was never finished, Ivan's voice letting out choked sobs as his wide mauve eyes stared at nothing, nothing at all, the blurred visions wafting about his subconscious, his heart; oh, his heart! How it broke into pieces!

The television continued to glare, speak, judge upon the damaged Ivan Braginski…who was accused of a heartless crime he could not, for the life of him, remember doing…

OooOOOOoOoOOOooOOOOOOoooo

**Miles Away…Flight Over the Atlantic Ocean-En Route to America**

OoOOOOOoOOOOooooOOOOOOOOOOOOoooOOOOo

Arthur was sincerely trying to figure out who was the bigger moron between himself and Alfred Jones.

Was it Alfred? The cunning blonde who had issued a draft for all young American men? A draft which HE was planning to join in less than seventy-two hours?

Or was it indeed the Brit?

Who had stupidly yelled at America after their first kiss, calling him "Selfish" and screaming "How dare he do such a thing without his consent!"

Well, that had not been the perfect way to end a first kiss, now had it?

In all perfect honesty, Arthur Kirkland had only responded to the actions due to his cowardice; Alfred had been a perfect kisser, though the act **had **been greedy. But had not England antagonized him so?

But yes, cowardice.

Fear.

Fear had consumed the dark-blonde boy's brain, hence his pushing away of Alfred; no wonder America was acting as brash as he was, it was as if Arthur had just stated, "Thanks ever so much for the kiss, now go screw yourself twice over!"

No wonder America was going to leave like so…

No wonder America had not picked up the phone after Arthur had realized his mistake, how his reflexive actions had injured, and possibly destroyed, a relationship that would span millennia to come.

But maybe…Maybe England could reach that twit, that former colony of his, in time…

Meet Alfred F. Jones face-to-face…

And perhaps, with just a little faith, stop that annoying, yet oh-so-adorable male, from killing himself…

And Arthur's dreams…

OooOOOOOoOOooOoOOoooooOOoooooOOo

A/N: ^ ^ MWAH! Another chapter completed : D

I hope you enjoyed this. I have to say, my favorite part of this whole chapter was Russia's time in it XD I love writing Ivan, he's such an amazing and complicated character, and yes, I do love writing torture/violence sequences.

Thank you ever so much for reading, I'll be updating soon! ^ ^


	6. Here I Stand, Upon A Widow's Walk

A/n: A quick update on this, because this is the final chapter for Act I! Don't worry; Act II is going to be extremely long, I promise! XD But, I'm going to be focusing on my Death Note works for awhile after this, and get outlines for other stories from different fandoms ready as well. Don't worry xD I bet chapter six of this will be out shortly, knowing me. My plans for balance usually fail, haha.

Chapter completely inspired by: "Come Back to Me" by David Cook, and "Someday" by Rob Thomas and you'll see the reason why at the end of the chapter. Also inspired in small amounts by lots of other very sad songs XD

Full-Blown out Yaoi straight ahead, just to warn you all! XD And thank you so much for all of the past reviews, favorites, and alerts, you guys are awesome ^ ^

Enjoy! And I'll see you all at Act II!

P.S. Yes, I did cry at the end of this chapter. Take that as a warning, lovelies XD

_OoOooooOOOoOOooOOoooOOOooOOoOOooOOOo_

_Dress it as we may, feather it, daub it with gold, _

_Huzza it, and sing swaggering songs about it, _

_What is war,_

_Nine times out of ten,_

_But murder in uniform? _

_~Douglas Jerrold_

_OoOOoooooooooooooooooooOooOOooOoooooOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO_

_**One Day before Alfred's Departure to Germany…**_

Summer's glory shone down upon the Texan country-side as Arthur's limo sped along, the dirt road swishing about the tires, dust flying everywhere, causing the British man to keep his windows rolled up as the scenery passed by his tired, emerald eyes; it had taken two full days for England to find Alfred Jones' exact location.

After arriving in Washington, D.C., after noting the absence of his former colony, Arthur confronted the other nation's assistant, and though he had been sworn to secrecy, the Kirkland lad got the information out of him: Arthur had flown to his private Texan ranch to spend his last days before flying off to Germany in a peaceful and relaxed state.

Unfortunately, it had taken poor Arthur the rest of the time to travel via limo, for the man hated planes a majority of the time, and only rode upon them when it was absolutely necessary. The large nation had passed by Arthur's eyes in a blur, only stopping at hotels at night, or to grab some food at a local restaurant (_Why are there so many damn burger joints in this country…?!) _or to take a restroom break at a gas-station _(AHH, the FILTH, DEAR GOD, AHHH…)_; and now, here the dark-blonde man was, the ranch in his sights, tall pine trees lining all around it, especially near the front of the large home, a huge corral outback, near a barn full of purebred horses of all hues and colors, follies and a few ponies as well. Overall, there had to be over forty acres, if not more, on the ranch, possibly even up to sixty, maybe seventy; Arthur was not sure. He had never gotten to question the younger male about it. Green acres surrounded the home as far as Arthur Kirkland could see, with dotted rainbow-hued gardens springing about. A watermelon patch was supposedly towards the rear of the ranch, while small corn fields were evident already.

"Sir, did you call Alfred F. Jones to tell him you were arriving?" Roberto, Arthur's butler and driver, with short snow-hued hairs perked up, his icy eyes turning to gaze upon the Briton.

"…I felt there was no need, Roberto, but I thank you for asking."

The other man remained silent, his gaze hardening, as he shook his head; all the while, he wondered why his young master was such a foolish human sometimes.

Five minutes passed, tires now crunching upon gravel and stone, as the limousine pulled into the circular drive of the large, three-story ranch home. The red-brick building shone brightly in the sunlight, the white marble steps up to the oak doors gleaming like twinkling stars at midnight; tiny statues of cherubs and seraphim dotted the walkway up to the doors and the wooden porch where said entrances stood. The porch itself was bare of all life, save for two pots of bluebonnets, and a wooden loveseat that was a swing.

Neither butler nor master spoke as Arthur made the journey up the home's steps, to where he stood in front of an entrance, not to just a house, but an entrance to the unknown, a situation where all was about to be placed on the line, with little time to make sure it happened. With a shaking finger, England rang the doorbell while a gentle breeze blew, the two American flags on either side of the doorway billowing slightly.

"Coming!" Strong footsteps rang out, and Arthur prepared himself for the incoming encounter; incoming turning into immediate when Alfred swung open the door, his bright smile instantly melting away when his eyes fell upon the British male standing in his doorway.

"Hello, Alfred-"

The door slammed loudly, cutting off the older nation's words; frowning, the Kirkland boy shouted,

"Dammit Alfred, open the damn door!"

"No!" The other snapped back, the sound extremely close; Arthur hypothesized that his former colony was just on the other side of the door.

"Alfred F. Jones, stop being a twit, and open this door!"

"Why should I?!"

"Because I said so, that is why!" Kirkland groaned, running a hand through his dark, dirty-blonde hair; he should have known this was not going to be easy whatsoever. America had adopted England's old stubbornness, ever since he had been a small babe.

"Yeah, well, maybe I'm not going to listen to you then! What do you say to that, you old man?!" Alfred spat angrily; Arthur could just imagine his young, adopted "brother" crossing his arms, pouting, golden bangs flopping as the Jones boy would scrunch up his face, sea-colored eyes' gaze boring a hole into the door. The image in his mind nearly made the Brit burst out with laughter.

"Well…I'd have to say…" Arthur trailed off for a moment, to use a hand motion to wave away Roberto, and though he gave the young Kirkland a look, he bowed politely, choosing to take his leave and return to the limo, "That I am not planning to leave until you open this door, let me in, and talk to me."

"Well, you'll be waiting there a long time, pal!"

"Alright, I can wait. There is a nice loveseat here, I can sleep there. But about food, I…am not sure…"

"Hmph. I don't care." Alfred growled, pausing for a moment, and then spoke again, "You…really like that piece of furniture?"

"Why, yes, it is fine craftsmanship…." Were they actually having a decent conversation?

"…" The Jones male was silent inside, and it seemed like an eternity passed, an eternity of deafening silence, before any movement occurred; finally, the door, much to Arthur's surprise, opened, and Alfred stuck his head out, "You should like that swing, you're the one who gave it to me…."

"Ah…AH! Oh yes, I…" England turned his jade orbs back to the loveseat, "I did give this to you…It was many years ago, was it not?"

"It was after The War of 1812…You gave it to me as sort of a…peace-offering." Alfred shrugged, "It's been sturdy this whole time, and I've taken good care of it."

"I can't believe that…it has not fallen apart yet, haha." Arthur returned with a chuckle to his tone, but America's expression and voice remained stoic and serious,

"I take good care of the things I care about, Arthur. Always."

"I wish I could say the same for myself, Alfred." Green eyes glanced away, focusing on the ground to their left and the small finches that were hopping around on the front lawn of the ranch.

"…Arthur, why did you come here…? Be honest with me, really." The younger male was not his normal cheerful, optimistic, and foolhardy self; but did Arthur expect him to me? No, of course not. Not when it came to matters of the heart.

"I came to apologize, of course, and….well…Perhaps we could talk?"

"…" Alfred remained mute, but after a moment, his shoulders slumped like two sad, tiny hills in a deserted, dark wood, that had not seen the light of day due to the tall foliage, "Come inside then, I guess…"

"Seriously?" England could not hide his surprise.

"Well…I…uh…" The former colony's cheeks flushed a light tint of pink, "It'd be rude of me to…keep you out here, to fend for yourself, especially since I'm not going to be here after tomorrow…" Was that a tinge of regret in Alfred's voice?

"Yes, so I have heard." The Kirkland stepped inside the ranch when America held the door open for him; Arthur nodded to Roberto, who was watching the duo from the limousine window, signaling to drive off, he would be in good hands for awhile.

"If you're here to talk me out of it, Arthur, I am going to tell you right now that I am going to completely ignore any of your attempts to do such a thing." America shut the door with a loud clang, while the older nation glanced around the entrance foyer; delicious and sensual aromas of freshly baked bread and lavender invaded Arthur's senses, knowing that Alfred's cook and maid must have been hard at work on the ranch earlier. The entrance hall was just as gigantic as it had been rumored to be, the double sets of stairs, one set on the Kirkland's left, the other on his right, leading up to the second floor; their light beige carpeting clean as a whistle. To his north, Arthur could spy the kitchen with its enticing aromas, to his left, a beautiful parlor with furniture made of country-style, all of the four comfortable chairs and table looking purely hand-made. A giant picture of George Washington hung above the fire place situated in the parlor, and the Kirkland lad could not help but turn his attention to it, and walk into the room to get a better sight of the marvelous oil painting.

"Beautiful painting, isn't it?" Alfred had silently followed his companion after a moment of no sound coming from either male, after an eerie and awkward silence, and the words he spoke startled the older male; the closeness of the American man doing nothing to ease his mind.

"Yes, it is. And Alfred, I am not here to directly talk you out of what you're planning. Do I approve? No. But I have a feeling I could not stop you, though I wish I could."

"So you don't want me to go?"

"…No. I don't."

Alfred remained silent for some time, until he eventually turned his body away from his former ruler, murmuring, "I…didn't think you cared."

"What?!" The Brit screamed with incredulity, but the volume did not phase America whatsoever.

"I thought you didn't really care what I did at this point, Arthur…I was apparently mistaken." The last statement was a half question, and Arthur pouted in response, while stating,

"Of course you were mistaken, you git! Why would you think-" He stopped, Arthur knowing fully well that his question was of the idiotic caliber, "Oh…"

"You said I was being selfish, Arthur. You acted like you didn't want me to kiss you at all, but you had asked me to take what I wanted. And what I wanted was…."

"….Me."

"…Yes." America had returned the confirmation in a whisper.

"…God dammit, Alfred, I…" England trailed off with a sigh, plopping down into a comfortable chair with plaid cushions, one small hand holding his cranium, "I just…."

"You just, what?"

"I was just afraid, alright!? I pushed you away, said those things, because I was afraid of what was to come! You happy?!" Arthur snapped, placing both of his hands to cradle his face, his orbs boring into the hardwood floor, his retinas memorizing each tiny piece of the material.

"Am I happy?" Alfred returned in a despondent form, his body coming to crouch in front of the British one's, "Am I happy that you're…upset? Why would I be? Of course I'm not."

"I'm not upset."

"Then why do you look like you're on the verge of tears, Iggy?"

"…Don't call me that." England pouted, and America could not contain his short laugh, but stopped immediately when he realized it was inappropriate for the moment.

"…Arthur, look…I…I should have realized how you felt, I'm sorry."

"Why are you apologizing, you idiot?!" The older man's head shot up, dark emerald eyes scrunching up in distaste, "It was my fault, all good old England's fault, good old Arthur Kirkland was too afraid to admit his feelings, like he always is, so he pushes the one person who matters the most to him away once again! Good job! I bet you're overjoyed to see myself like so, knocked down about a hundred pegs or so, eh?" Arthur ranted in an angry, yet hurt fashion.

"…Of course not." Alfred was hanging his head, his crystal-blue eyes shooting up in a near coy-like manner to his older companion, "Arthur, don't say things like that, you know I…I don't like to see you like this. And if you think reacting how you did pushed me into leaving for Germany tomorrow, you're wrong. I…would have done that anyway. Whether you pushed me away or otherwise; in this case, I just thought you didn't care, but I should have realized you were just scared….Since I was scared too."

"Heh. You are concluding that we are both cowards? Well…I actually am prone to believe that at this point."

"…" The American spoke not a word, choosing instead to seat himself upon the arm of the chair, his head turned towards the parlor's gigantic bay window, facing the front lawn.

"…I am a coward, though, always have been." Kirkland continued on, "Look at me! I said those cruel words to you because I was afraid…"

"You called me a selfish twit and an egotistical dumb-ass and brat, if I remember correctly."

"Er…Well, yes, that is what I said…"

"So…If I um…If I kiss you again, what would you call me this time, heh?" Alfred gave a small grin, changing his position so his expression shone upon the British man's face like a beam of sunlight.

Arthur snorted, "Was that a hypothetical, probably never-going-to-occur sort of question, or a realistic one? And don't tell me you don't know what hypothetical means-"

"I do too know what it means!" America's smile faded to a glower, and England could not contain the bellow that echoed forth.

"Well, good, answer my question then."

"…It was a realistic one."

"Ah…Well, I figured that I had…Um…Ruined things-"

"Ruined?" The Jones lad tilted his head curiously, "Arthur, I just said that I wanted you, you think that went away in three days?"

Arthur solemnly shrugged, "I could not tell, mainly because of my own actions, and yours; Alfred, how do you want me?"

"…H-Huh?"

"You keep saying that, but how do you want me? In a…well…that sort of fashion, or a more romantic notion, or-"

"All of the above, I guess." The blush blossoming upon the younger nation was more prominent at this point, and Alfred tried to shrug it off, "I just…you said stuff about feelings, and I have feelings…for you, in that way, even if I shouldn't, and I don't know if you do or not, I was hoping you did, you acted like you did, and-"

"Alfred…You twit, you are babbling nonsense." Arthur stood, hands fisted into the pockets of his green uniform, eyes staring down his more youthful companion.

"Eh…Hehe, I guess….But do you understand what I was-?!"

The Jones male felt an electric shock shoot up his spine when England's lips came to dance upon his own, in a feathery kiss; the Brit's lips had to be the softest surface Alfred had ever touched, let alone kissed. Arthur's lips were shaking out of nerves as his mouth moved in gentle squeezes, and the American moved his hands to clasp onto strong shoulders of the shorter male, pulling Kirkland closer, guiding the breezy kiss along, for he knew of England's decent amount of inexperience; Alfred titled his head just a tad to deepen the kiss, Arthur letting out a breathy sigh, eventually pulling away after a moment. Bright green orbs shone drunkenly, a classic look for the man who loved his liquor, but this time America knew his companion was not drunk on actual cups of alcohol.

"I bet you haven't kissed anyone in ages, eh, Iggy? Haha!"

Arthur pouted, "That is none of your business, now is it?"

"Maaaybe?" America's classic, foolish grin had returned, his cheerful self had been revived and resurrected with that one simple kiss and conversation, "C'mon, do you want a tour? I'd be more than happy to give you one." Alfred was already exiting the room, headed towards the kitchen, "I can get you some tea, and we can even go out into the garden, and-" The man paused himself when he realized England had not followed him, and turning back to the parlor, there stood the older nation, his head hanging, a despondent frown on his face."

"Hey, Arthur, what…what is it?"

"What does it matter? You're leaving tomorrow, and who knows when I will see you again."

"…Hey now…Don't be like that."

"…I should have said **'if'** I will see you again, not 'when'."

"Don't say that!" America ran into the room, fixing his steel, silver spectacles upon the bridge of his nose, "Don't talk like that, Arthur."

"You know it could be possible…"

"…HEY! Come with me, that way we're not separated! And we could fight together, just like in the last war, and-"

"You know I cannot do that, you fool…" The United Kingdom murmured morosely, his voice barely above a whisper.

"…I wish you could."

"You and I both, Alfred. But it is not proper for me to fight in this war; I need to protect England…Even if…I want to protect you."

America smiled, and came closer to his old ruler, ruffling the elder's hair, "I know you do. But I can handle myself, okay? I'm a-"

"Hero, yes, yes, I know." Arthur snorted, "You have always told me that, ever since you were a toddler."

"You mean ever since I was a CUTE toddler-"

"Don't push your luck, boy."

"Hahaha! C'mon, let's just…I don't know, let's just spend the day together. I haven't got much time, Arthur…"

"…When do you leave?" Another nearly-mute whisper.

"Tomorrow morning at dawn; we'll be taking off from the Lackland Air Force Base, it's not far from here."

England nodded, "Alright. I'll stay for the day. I figured you would ask me of such a request, but unfortunately, I did not bring any item on my person other than myself."

"Hmm? Psh, don't worry about that, you'll be fine. C'mon, let me show you around."

OoOOoOOoOOOOOOOOoooOoo

The house was more gorgeous than Arthur had ever even imagined; plentiful space, cozy rooms, no wonder Alfred loved to spend so much time here; he could recall Summit meetings when the former colony had been absent, and it eventually took an hour, and many calls, to find out that America had played hooky to go to his ranch and relax. Normally, England would lecture the young man afterwards, but now, he could understand why America would flee to this safe haven; there was peace here, no harsh talks, no yelling, just the ranch, its grounds, the gardens, and the horses and corral.

Alfred had gotten better with his horse-riding, that was another certainty; Arthur gazed upon golden tresses settled under a cowboy hat as America rode his favorite black steed, while the Briton sat upon the back porch, a wooden chair his seat, his Earl Grey Tea on a small oak table near his left elbow.

It was all too enjoyable to hear America whoop and holler in rapture as he rode his steed around the large corral, the white-wash fence glistening in the sunlight, the time being just past two in the afternoon; and as England wallowed in the delightful sight of his former colony riding the horse, getting it onto its hind legs once and a while, to wave his hat around, he could not but feel a pang of regret; Arthur wished he could have done all this sooner, seen all of this before, much before, today…

"HEY! Why don't I get you a horse, you can ride too!"

"Hah, no, that's fine." Arthur returned with a yell, all too content to watch his young ally act as if he was in the Wild West once more.

"Aw, you're such an old fuddy-duddy, Arthur!"

England pouted, "Oh, shut your bloody pie-hole, I am the farthest thing from a…a 'fuddy-duddy' as you put it!"

The younger country laughed, hopping off his horse after tying the majestic creature to a part of the fence, "Sure, sure, whatever you say."

The Kirkland bloke snorted, shaking his head, "I'll have you know, I can be quite fun." Arthur stood from his chair, picking up his tea, while he headed back inside as his country companion followed him, "You seem to forget that I was a wild pirate in my youth-"

"Which was over four hundred years ago, Grandpa, haha." Alfred grinned teasingly, causing the Brit to pout as he placed his cup on the kitchen counter,

"Well, if you're going to be cruel-"

"Aw, come on, Iggy…." England jumped when America snuck his body closer; wrapping his strong arms around the shorter, yet elder nation, in a tight embrace, "No pouting, not today."

"…Fine." The expression changed from irked to neutrality, and Arthur leaned back slightly into the other man's hold, "What do you want to do now?"

England could hear the smile upon his companion's face when Alfred replied with, "I can think of a few things…"

"I said 'what', not 'who', you twit! I swear, you have been associating with France for way, way too long!" Arthur snapped back, his face harvesting a blush; apparently, the words and facial expression were a delight to America, who just laughed in return.

"What ever is so funny?!"

"You." The younger country chirped, "I didn't mean it like that, but…now that you mention it-"

"Ohh, no, no, no! You stop that train of thought this very moment-"

"Aw, but Iggy-"

"NO."

America pouted, "But you're so adorable, and c'mon, why wouldn't I find you attractive? What, are you scared to go that route or something? Not that I'm saying we have to right now, but are you afraid? Or…"

"…Or…?"

"Are you a virgin?"

"…" The glare that England sent his former colony over his shoulder was enough of an answer, and the Kirkland bloke wiggled out of Alfred's embrace, "How dare you ask me such a thing! For your information, I have been with another person before-"

"Just not a man, right?"

"…"

Alfred's grin was jester-esque, "Oh come on, Arthur, don't be so pouty." The younger man stalked closer, his "victim" back up against the nearest kitchen wall, "It's not like that will last much longer, now will it?"

"If you so much insist that you shall accomplish anything by acting in a threatening manner, I shall walk out that door right now!"

America chuckled, the tone dark, venomous, eerie in such a manner, "But I would think you would like that, my little _tsundere_, being dominated completely, having a somewhat threatening and powerful and strong man holding you. So really, are you calling' me a liar?"

"Yes! You are completely false, you git! I-I…I…" His eyes….damn that Yankee's eyes! So icy blue, so clear, so perfect, such a powerful gaze, the beam trapping dear Arthur Kirkland's mind in a sea of miasmic unknown; the Brit was stuttering, repeating that final letter a few more times as America leaned his arm against the wall, grinning like a cockamamie fool, but whose eyes glowed with triumph.

"Am I? C'mon, Arthur…Stop lying, really, it's not something you're good at. And…" America's frown dissipated, "When you think about it…and our current situation…"

England paused in a rebuttal he was about to make concerning the comment of falsehood and lies, when he saw the entire one-hundred and eighty degree change the younger nation had made. It took the Englishman mere seconds to realize that Alfred was referring to his departure…

And to the war…

And the prospect that…

"No, don't say that. Don't…don't insinuate that-!"

"Arthur, you and I both know that when I take off tomorrow…there could be a chance that I might not come back."

"Shut up." The older man vehemently pushed his ex-colony back enough, far enough, so Arthur could have room to breathe, to walk, and he did so, placing weary, worn English hands on a splendid marble counter top, the white stone gleaming in the afternoon sunlight; the older nation hanging his head, emerald eyes glued to the surface, though staring at nothing.

"England, you can't deny that I might…I'm not immortal, and I might-"

"DON'T. SAY. IT."

The Kirkland male did not want to hear it; was he in denial?

Perhaps.

Or perhaps he just wanted to push the idea of the bloody war out of his mind for just a little bit of time, just a day, maybe an hour, but no…

Maybe Arthur wanted to forget that the man he had just reconnected with and apologized to…the man he did truly love…was about to leave in just a little over twelve hours, hop on his plane, and pick up a gun to fight in a gory war, in a war that was to not have a winning or losing side.

Yes…it was that…

All of that…The War, Alfred leaving….Everything…

And…

Arthur dared not picture getting a letter in the mail, a call from Austria, from Sealand, from anyone…. stating that Alfred F. Jones had died in the war….

…They truly had little time left…

"…I'm not saying it's probable, but just…possible…" America's deep voice was far from rambunctious, his eyes turned away, daring not to glance at the downright depressed Englishman, who kept his back to the youthful United States.

"…They…won't be showing any mercy." England chocked out, coughing to clear his throat, taking a shaky breath afterwards, trying with, sadly false, hope, to calm his beating heart, "I know that…today could be my last day with you. For…" Arthur paused, turning around once more, the men face-to-face, "Well…forever."

Admitting the possibility into the Texan air gave it life, shape; it was as if a smog-black, shapeless demon had entered the room silently, chocking both men into a reality check, a submissive state of moroseness.

"…Maybe that's why I wanted us to…well, I mean, I wanted to do that with you because I want to so badly, too, but…I-I…"

"Alfred, I understand. This….It is an unorthodox situation, but…" The United Kingdom stepped closer to his companion, lifting his orbs into a dead-on stare, "I…I do want it."

"Why are we referring to sex as…'it'? Seriously, it's sort of juvenile-"

"Well, you're sort of juvenile!"

"…"

"Oh, stop giving me that look, you bloody Yankee. What, do you want me to say I want…er, what do they call it here….a fuck? Lord Almighty, where is your diction? Did I not raise you better than to use such words?"

"…"

"Stop giving me that look, Alfred!"

America opened his mouth as if to speak, shutting it again after a moment, then, of course, since the male could never make up his mind, he did indeed talk, "So, I guess we shouldn't 'snog' as you would put it-"

"I never said that!"

"But you're getting off topic here! You called me juvenile, said my diction is crap, so I'm assuming you don't want to-MMH?!"

America would come to remember that kiss as an "invasion"; it was to be the duo's own personal joke for years to come, ten, twenty, and beyond. England pushing Alfred against the wall would later further strengthen the joke, and Arthur would forever blush violently at the memory of his insurgency, his dominance sprouting forth for the first, and last, if Alfred Jones was to see to it, time.

The Brit could feel the youngling grinning into the kiss, and though he pondered the idea that he should take it as a warning, he failed to heed any such notion.

Of course, he should have; for before the British male could even take further action, Alfred's quick reflexes, that had saved him numerous times on numerous occasions, flipped the duo, placing Arthur's back against the wall with a cry of "oomph!"

"…Heh, wow, can't say I expected that." America panted in England's ear not a second after the switch, his sea-hued eyes alight with mischief, "And I don't think if we continue here it will be too comfortable for such a man as yourself, Iggy."

"W-What does that mean?!"

America shrugged, "Well here…against the wall…near the fridge. Not too comfortable, am I right? Especially if you have never done this sort of thing-"

"I highly doubt YOU have done this sort of thing as well, you git! Do not make it seem like I am the wallowing little feminine submissive! I am far from that, Alfred F. Jones, and you should know it! I have been a strong male my entire life, never depending on anyone else-"

"Oh really? I seem to recall helping you out of a few jams in history, eh, Arthur?"

"…That is far from what I mean." England frowned, "I am not afraid to ask for help, yes. But I do not depend on another nation for a permanent crutch one-hundred percent of the time."

America did not reply rapidly, as one would expect; no, instead, a steady gaze bored into the Englishman, the younger nation blinking slowly after a minute, and eventually replying with,

"But…Dependence isn't always horrible. Independence is great, but sometimes you like to depend on another. Like a friend. It's nice to depend on friends, isn't it?"

"…What are you getting at?"

"I-I'm just saying that…I know you don't depend on someone one-hundred percent, but…you have friends to always help you, and you always help your friends, you've helped me and all, so…" Alfred stopped his speech with a sigh, continuing on after his orbs turned towards the nearest window, daring not a look at the other male, "I…I just wanted to say that even though I'm an independent nation, I still…I've still needed you a lot. I know I never really said it, and I didn't always act like it, but…I do. I wouldn't have done the things had I not needed you."

"…" The Kirkland honestly had no idea how to respond to such a statement, his jaw dropping a minute amount, "Alfred…."

"I just never want you to think that I'm just…here because it's fun. Or that America's independence is going to keep us apart forever or some crazy idea like that. I do…I do depend on you more than you probably realize, Arthur, and-!!"

Alfred stopped himself when sinew-esque arms wrapped themselves around America's waist, gloved hands resting on the nation's strong back, England burying his face in the crook of the Jones' neck.

"…You have been reading Francis' romance novels again, have you not?" The United Kingdom whispered, and the United States pouted, praying to his God that Arthur did not see the rising flush on his cheeks.

"That's none of your business-"

"Save your rebuttals, and just carry me up the damn stairs already, you git."

OoOOOOOOOOOOOOOoOoOOOOOooOooOOOOoOO

America had truly, really and truly honestly, not meant to throw England to the bed that roughly, causing the older nation to shockingly yelp; nor had he meant to throw off his classic jacket with wild abandon, his glasses being tossed onto the article of clothing with just as little care.

"D-Don't you need to see to do this sort of thing?!"

"But how will you kiss my face if those are on me? Besides, I can see well enough, I'm…close enough to you, aren't I?" Alfred smirked, leaning his head down as he began to straddle the elder man, strong hands caressing the still clothed Englishman.

Arthur shivered externally while those aqua-blue eyes burned holes in him, as if Sol himself were sending pyre-filled rays of heat unto his body.

Slippery hands like that of a sliding snake weaved their way up England's neck, undoing his silk necktie; America brought the garment to his nose, gently breathing in the scent of musk that the man normally carried on him. Then, to Arthur's utter disgust, America chucked the tie into the ever-growing pile of clothes.

"HEY! Be careful with that, it was expensive-"

"I know, I bought it for you."

"…"

"What, you forgot?" The taller man chuckled as he slipped off his boots, his hands then wandering to England's own footwear, "Gift. Twentieth birthday. Ring any bells?"

When Arthur shook his head, green eyes wide with desperation when it came to remembering the day, and with sorrow and fear at America's reaction when his mind could not find it in a beacon, England was surprised when Alfred just laughed once more, even louder.

"Not surprised, really. You were flat drunk that year. Not to mention, you were screaming at me one moment, and you tried to dry hump me the next."

"I WHAT? PLEASE tell me you're kidding on that last part."

The boy with the bright sunny locks only smirked further as he unbuttoned his shirt with slow care, feeling the United Kingdom's eyes upon the slowly exposing abdomen and pectorals, "As much as you'd love for me to be kidding, I'm not. But let's not think about that, shall we?"

He was back to straddling him fully once more, and England could not take his eyes off the exposed torso of his former colony, having to lick his lips at their inexplicable, sudden dryness. What it would be like…to kiss that porcelain-seeming skin, dotted with a few battle scars here or there, minute ones that did not stand out greatly, only enhancing the American one's beauty. Of their own free will, British hands came up to caress Alfred's skin, he himself humming, enthralled at Arthur's hypnotized-esque expression.

"What are you thinking about?" The Jones man whispered, his eyes connecting with England's for but a second, the older country's orbs going back to drink in the man above him, and his body.

"…Everything, I suppose." It was far from a lie; memories were resurfacing in Kirkland's mind…The entire Valentine's Day fiasco, those subtle moments where England could feel the stirrings of a crush blooming forth, growing faster, stronger, each flower being crushed by a boot of reality, with Arthur stating to himself that he would forever believe that nothing would come to pass. No kisses, no hugs, nothingness.

Even before all of that, even before the past few years…Arthur could clearly remember why he would have never been able to hurt his America. During the Revolutionary War, he had not been able to shoot Alfred just because of brotherly feelings, not just because he would have regretted it, and that there was no sure-fire cause for doing so…But also…

"You think too much, Iggy."

Arthur started, snapping out of his miasmic daydream, his mind clearly picturing the frightened America as the musket was being pointed at him, England ready to shoot, but…there was no point….there had been no point….Now, here, a new America came into his vision, the real one balancing above him, wearing nothing but an undershirt, his boxers (_are those…American flags on his underwear?!_), and two dog-tags jangling around Alfred's strong neck.

"I…suppose I do…"

He knew…England perfectly knew why he had not been able to shoot…

_I loved you…All the way back then…_

"Don't have really a whole lot of time to spend thinking, now do we?" Alfred was smiling, a genuine grin, with a tint of serious sorrow weaved skillfully in, hidden underneath the happiness.

"…" England only shook his head, "You...undress quickly, heh."

"Oh? Hahaha, yeah, I guess. You don't apparently, but I bet I can fix that…"

"I bet you can as well, but…."

"Hmm?"

"…" England was still a newcomer when it came to asking what he wished for, in the spectrum of sexual-romantic actions; so emerald eyes could only glue themselves onto full-pink American lips.

"Hehe, you're so cute when you're shy Iggy…"

England would have sworn he had been shocked with electricity when their lips touched once more, Alfred going slow in the beginning, gently kissing, lips making soft, and fluffy motions, squeezes of lusty love. Arthur could feel his heart's beat skip, then speed up, vitally pumping his blood faster as pores upon his skin sweated in anticipation, in heated desire; his clothes were becoming too constricting as the kiss sped up, America murmuring in pleasure more and more often, but words were failing the Brit. Instead, all he could do was whimper in joy as the duo's tongues touched and warred peacefully in passion.

Said whimper must have been enough of a hint for the normally-clueless American, for he pulled England up into a sitting position, rather roughly, one may add, deft hands coming to unbutton Arthur's pea-green uniform, while the Brit clung to his ex-colony, hands fisted in wild, blinding blonde tresses, the older one's lips already bruised from the kissing, his eyes hazy, his breaths hot and short, all hairs on his body standing to attention as America's lips roughly ravished his neck while the coat was being unbuttoned, and eventually taken off, thrown away; it was not to be needed now, nor for the rest of the day.

Arthur's crisp, eternally clean and white shirt came next, exposing a bare chest, and to the older land's amazement, America gave off a soft groan at the sight, as if a life-long dream had just finally come true, easily with the undoing of a few, plastic buttons.

A dream….It felt so much like a dream, and in his mind, England hoped that it was not, begged that it was not. He desired that that wet, pink muscle that escaped from Alfred's mouth was real, and that the sensual licks it gave across the Kirkland's chest, causing British moans to escape into the confines of the bedroom, doors locked, thank God, were real. All of it had to be real, the touches of strong hands, the worship-tones of kisses, of licks, of light nips, the flicks across Arthur's nipples that sent his mind spiraling into ethereal submission.

A knee was grinding into England's groin, causing his normally stoic (or drunk with rage, if you were lucky to catch the man on a "good" day) voice to raise decibels and octaves higher, scales Arthur believed he could never reach at all.

"A-Alfred!"

America returned the call of his real name with a low, guttural moan in the other's ear, Alfred F. Jones' hands roaming all over England's upper body, craving the sparks that flew up his spine with each touch, with each sensual touch, that conquered the Brit's body.

His patience eventually waned, America growled like a savage beast, the sound causing England to gasp in awe; he had never heard his now-to-be-lover make such a sound before. And now, the wire of patience snapping in two, Alfred's hands lunged at Arthur's pants, pulling the button out of its hole, the zipper being unzipped in a frenzy, and the taller, stronger male got off the body just enough so the rest of the olive-hued uniform could be tossed away, leaving a nearly-naked Kirkland spread out before America, boxers the last bits of clothing on both…except for Alfred's dog tags, which, before he himself could remove them, in a haze, the darker-haired, shorter blonde reached up, taking them off his companion's neck, placing them on the nearest night stand in a movement of reverence.

The moment touched the younger male, whose smile grew at the gesture of honor, and a gentle kiss was placed onto England's nose, followed by more rapid ones everywhere on the Brit's face, shoulders and sensitive collarbone. And when Arthur nearly screamed in delight at a moist tongue licking the side and back of his neck, America chuckled,

"Touchy?"

"S-Shut up you brat!"

"Ooh, I love that kind of foul language, when you call me bad things-"

"Foul language?! I-I shall show y-you foul language you-Ohhh…."

Apparently, "Iggy" enjoyed rough foreplay more than he let on, because a tough bite to the shoulder caused him to groan, his voice to trail off in an awed and star-struck silence, his head lolling a tad as America's tongue licked the bite, along with the skin around it, his deep voice whispering in lulling tones,

"Are you imaging another place where I could put my tongue?"

"Uhhh….S-Stop that, you brat."

"Mmm, insult me more, I like it…"

"Are you getting off on my INSULTS? How long has THAT existed?!"

"Since now." Alfred's knee moved faster with each passing second, the man's entire body nearly rubbing itself against his English companion's own, but not caring whatsoever. Neither of them did; modesty had flown out the window like a kuku bird.

England could feel the spiking temperature on every inch of his body, his voice in synch with America's own as the men grinded and rubbed against one another, clothed members meeting all too frequently, hands sliding everywhere, touching slick, sweaty skin, pants like that of a dog in heat were the dominating sounds, until Arthur let out a shout,

"ENOUGH! I can't take it anymore, you teasing brat, just DO IT."

"Are we referring to YOU as 'it' now?"

The responding scream was taken as a yes, and America cringed as he lunged closer to the nightstand, flinging open the top drawer, tossing out the contents.

"Where is it?!"

"Where's WHAT?"

"The lubrication!"

"…You've kept lubrication in your nightstand-"

"YES." America jumped off the bed, spreading out the drawer's items on the carpet, double-checking; pens, yes. Paper, yes. Hidden picture of England in a swimsuit from a year ago, check (_let's not let England see that, RIGHT?_), but no lube.

"…Why have you kept lubrication in your-"

"BECAUSE."

"…"

"WHAT?"

"No need to shout? I am sure that your…special lubrication is around there somewhere." Arthur tried not to chuckle at his lover's frenzied actions, throwing all of the objects around, pulling out other drawers in the nightstand. America was actually acting quite…adorable.

"It's not special! It's regular! Strawberry flavored, but regular!"

"…"

"STOP LOOKING AT ME LIKE THAT."

"Strawberry-flavored?" A quirk of an eyebrow, a smirk and a devious expression, "Were you expecting me to lick it off of your-"

"S-Shut up!"

"Oh, I suppose it is the other way around. YOU want to lick it off of MY penis-"

"SHUT. UP. Do you want me to take you dry, or would you rather I find the lube that I use for masturbation-"

"OH…Ahahahaha, wow, really, dear Alfred?"

"….It…helps…..speed up the process when I need to be fast…" America chocked out, his jaw clenching as he scurried on all fours over towards the closet, his naked backside in the air as strong hands threw open the closet doors.

"I cannot believe you misplaced your…important tool, haha."

"Arthur. Shut. UP."

"Ohh, come now, cowboy, I'm just teasing."

The nineteen-year-old grumbled under his breath, "Yeah, well, when I find this, I'll ride you so much, you'll be saddle-sore for a year-"

"Hmm? What was that?"

"Oh, NOTHING. You know, I DID buy the strawberry-flavor for YOU. Normally I use-"

"Cheeseburger?" The smirk was evident in the Englishman's voice.

"…"

"Oh, come now, don't glare. What do you use?"

"…Regular. HEY, why are you just sitting there, anyway?! Help me find it so we can do this already!"

England put on his best "Latvia-like" pout, "But I am enjoying the view, Alfie, can I not stay upon the bed?"

Alfred paused, a frown on his face, and with a finger, he pointed at the other's lips, "It's that expression that certifies you as a submissive, pal."

Arthur immediately ceased his expression, replacing it with a glower, crossing his arms as he lay back against the headboard, "Well, fine then. I shall not assist you if that is the attitude you are going to have with me."

The other male let out a frustrated groan, the closet not revealing the missing lubrication, America's clothes and closeted-away knick-knacks spread out all along the bedroom floor.

"Have you tried under the bed?"

"WHY would my lube be under the bed?"

England shrugged, "It has not turned up elsewhere, so why not?"

Cerulean eyes just rolled in annoyance, but Alfred took his friend's advice, looking under the large piece of furniture.

"…Well?"

"…"

"…It was under there, was it not?"

"Shut up."

"So I **was** right, was I not?"

"I SAID-…" America did not even bother to finish his statement, growling and muttering curses under his breath; he truly did hate it when Arthur would rub in his correctness, his right answers, his correct ideas and suggestions. The man's ego was the size of Australia, but the former colony supposed that was where he got his **own** egotistical issues, from his life-long mentor, sort-of-brotherly companion.

"…Well, so are we…?"

"Uh, YEAH? NO, ARTHUR, I just spent nearly fifteen minutes for lubrication I **don't** plan on using today at all!"

"Sarcasm is very unbecoming of you, Alfred."

"Yeah, well, too bad."

"Are you always this grumpy before relations? You must really attract the women in droves, dear boy."

"At least I'm not grumpy ALL the time like YOU." America sat on the bed, naked as a jaybird, crossing his arms, eyes not even glancing at England.

The twenty-three year old sighed, scooting his bum nearer to his future-and-present lover, "Alfred…What's wrong…Did you lose the mood that rapidly?"

America could feel the Brit's hands rest on his shoulders, fingers gently rubbing the tired muscles and silky skin, "Dunno. Maybe." He shrugged, his words one-hundred percent true; the young man was unsure what was bothering him now, had he lost the mood that quickly in frustration at…the loss of his lube…?

He was certainly not frustrated with his own oncoming loss, yes…?

The United Kingdom's body pressed up against America's own, the lithe arms wrapping around a strong waist, a thin chest of Arthur pressing against Alfred's back, "Alfred…"

There was nothing left to say, nothing to further speak of…

Silence permeated the air; voices cut like the thinnest threads; only the ticking of the grandfather clock down the hall was alive and well in the household. Arthur peaked out the nearby bedroom window, seeing clouds were beginning to combine in the sky, darkening in hue. Rain was imminent, that was for sure.

"…Nothing is going to end, Alfred….But…I know you are scared."

"How do you know that?"

"Because you are silent."

"…Just…everything we talked about earlier. You didn't want to hear about the idea I might not come back. Now I don't want to hear it. Think about it. Any of that…"

"…Then we do not have to," England replied, "There is still some time left before tomorrow morning, we shall just have to make it last."

"Because every last kiss could….be the last?"

Arthur shook his head, hands caressing his young ally's chest, "No, not just because of that. But because it will give you more of a reason to fight hard and return home; it will be something to look forward to when this is all over. You shall want to get it all over and done quickly so we can pick up right where we left off, yes?"

"You're saying…for me not to look at this extremely negatively?"

The British one nodded, "Exactly. You should not. You shall be separated for me from awhile, but this shall end soon, or so I believe. It is one of the reasons my boss insisted on our not entering this war. Think of what happens here today…a greater reason to fight and get your job over with and done. That this is not the end, but the-"

"Beginning…"

"…Yes." Arthur's hold had strengthened on his fellow comrade, who still continued to hang his head, having more to say, but fearful of saying it.

"…I sort of regret signing up to do this…To go with them tomorrow-"

"No, don't. That…That is an honorable and worthy thing to do."

"But you…I mean, I didn't say I'd go with my men into battle to get away from you, I'd have done it anyway, but now…Now I just don't want to go, a part of me at least. And I can sincerely blame YOU for that-"

England interrupted America's biting remark with a laugh, "Oh, of course you'd blame me. When, of course, you should really blame yourself. You see, it was-…It was…"

"No, it's your fault. You messed up what we had, then YOU came over here, and then YOU acted all…" Alfred paused, huffing with a, "Never mind."

"…What?"

"Nothing."

"Alfred-" The tone was a warning in itself, and America cut in before the European nation could threaten further, with,

"Alright! Just that you acted so…so much like you. The you I lo-like. Not that egotistical or rude British guy that you sometimes are, that genuine and sweet…caring guy. Ah, I'm not good at this." Alfred's statement was true; his face, a bright, burning beat of burgundy.

"…" England remained mute, instead choosing to take hold of his companion's hand, pulling it in a gentle tug, until the body positions ended up with the elder male on his back once more, America closer, glancing down at him. And although words failed him, Arthur could only hope his coy glance towards his lower waist would be all the sign the blonde troublemaker would need to continue further.

Words were not spoken as the Hero nodded his head slowly, understanding completely, sliding off his own boxers first, his eternal ally's next, the garments being tossed away without a care.

"Are you sure you're ready?" The democracy questioned concernedly as he popped open the cap seated upon the small toothpaste-type tube of lubrication, knowing that this was to be a completely new experience for the submissive England underneath him.

Silence permeated the room, with the Kirkland only nodding his head, his jade eyes trying to hide that sheen of apprehension that had encased them; Alfred saw through any façade that existed, unfortunately for the poor English bloke with his back against the mattress, and though the younger one hesitated, it turned into just a second of time, until America decided otherwise, that this was not the time to hesitate, and with a finger coated in the gooey substance, the male who normally wore spectacles slowly slid his appendage against England's orifice.

"Hnn…" Though he shivered in dire anticipation, in a fiery desire that was burning faster like a Californian wildfire with each passing tick of the grandfather clock, England was nervous, and his groan erupted louder when the finger entered his passage fully, the foreign sensation rocketing against his spine, tingling, but also pulling in pain.

"Shh, just try to relax…"

"It…It hurts, dammit…" Arthur clenched his jaw; saying it 'hurt' seemed to be an understatement at this point. Good lord, was this activity supposed to be this uncomfortable?!

"I know, but you have to relax. This will end much better if you just keep calm; it could be worse, I could be taking you raw, or without the best preparation."

"Yeah, yeah…I know, but…Agh…"

"Just…try to pay attention to other things, okay?" America was calm, too calm for a supposed man who had never done this before, but England did not care at the moment; from what he had heard, his former colony had not been in a male-to-male relationship before, and he would believe it. Perhaps his younger "brother" just enjoyed watching Internet adult entertainment too much for his own good.

But those "other things" came into light once Arthur could feel a strong hand caress his skin oh-so lightly, fingers dancing across his abdomen with the grace of swans upon a midnight lake, the Englishman's body being massaged by a left hand, his opening being prepared by the right hand usually found in a heroic fist of fury.

Taunt nipples were already pert with arousal, and when teasing occurred on them, England heard, and felt, himself gasp heavily, eyes alight at how majestic the touch felt; even more so when Alfred's hand grabbed a bud, twisting, tweaking it enough to cause the Briton to let out a moan of, "Ohhh…"

The wave of ecstasy was enough to distract the Kirkland lad from the second finger entering his body for a moment…only a moment, sadly, for the moment when Alfred began to scissor, England let out a light scream of pain,

"It's alright, just hang in there, okay…?" America's voice was a breathless plea; his eyes a dilated sea of black, little blue, his irises nearly hidden in the sea of pleasure. The United Kingdom could see his lover was losing control, and that he would have to act soon.

But all the poor older man could do was whimper in consent, his eyes closed tightly, a teardrop dotting the edges of his lashes. His mind was warring with itself over which feeling to give into, the unbending pain, or the undeniable pleasure. England wished he could have at least been told how long it was to last, this feeling of tearing that was existing in his body, but no one could have, or would have, said. Not even himself.

America's touch still existed on his skin, the hand moving up to his neck, trying to sooth the shaking Brit, whose hands were clenching into the bed-sheets until aged knuckles were turning snow-white. But even as Alfred lovingly touched Arthur's brownish-and-golden-honey hued locks, the older one still shook with pain, a pain he thought would never subside until-

"AH!" It was a yelp of shock, England's eyes flashing open upon impact of questing fingers grazing over…over….

"What, what?!" The dominating male bellowed hurriedly, "Did I break something?!"

The Kirkland male gave his companion a mocking glare, "No, you g-git! W-What did you just do?!"

"Uhh…Uhh…" Yes, indeed, now Arthur was even MORE sure that America had not done this sort of love-making before, "I-I don't know?!"

"W-Well, do it again…?"

Icy eyes blinked in confusion, but with a tilt of the fingers still located inside England, America repeated his movement, and indeed, the British one let out a pleasured groan.

"That…That feels good…" With each little bump of his special spot, the sweetest spot of all, Arthur could feel the throbbing pain start to subside, despite his still hurrying-breathing; his excited pulse ringing in his ears as if a personal siren was going off in his mind, but this matter was far from distressing, not any more at least.

A third finger wormed its way into England's orifice, stretching it further, and this time, the Englishman gave a groan of pure enjoyment, no scream of pain; it was feeling wonderful by this time, Arthur would not have minded if Alfred had just kept on doing this sort of movement all through the rest of the day at this rate, and a whimper, not of pain but of sorrow, echoed out against the bedroom walls when America fully removed his fingers, the sounds of the room being that of heavy breathing, the clock down the hall, and the pitter-patter of the first raindrops to hit the glass window nearby, the sky dark against the light room.

Despite the Jones lad showing nervousness all throughout the day, his next actions were swift and precise; grabbing two pillows from the bed was simple enough, as was placing them underneath the waist of England, whose eyes were heavy-lidded, yet showing surprise in their cores.

"R-Ready?" It was asked out of politeness, Alfred was too far gone to act docile or patient if Arthur somehow said no. He had slung the Brit's legs over his shoulder so enough leverage had been obtained for an entrance that would cause minimal pain.

"Nyeh…Y-Yeah…-AH."

Apparently, America was also too far gone for one, subtlety, and two, gentle kindness.

"You bloody fool, go slow! SLOW! Does that word exist in your vocabulary?! Dear God, why did I even let you talk me into…" Arthur paused on his wrathful rant when he gazed into the eyes of his lover, who looked as if he had found the purest form of joy by being joined with England; a dazed smiled was etched across his face, ocean eyes sparkling like the Gemini stars located in Nyx's sky.

This was not just…an act of sexual gratification…

Bonds were being born, growing stronger as Alfred's member inched further into Arthur's body, the Englishmen cringing at the stinging pain, his only saving grace being that of America's pure-sky-blue eyes, gazing down at him calmly, yet euphorically, a beacon replaying the words over and over again:

_"Just look at me, it will be okay…" _

Oh, how England had missed those eyes; the years had been good to his past colony, his former enemy, his current friend…

…His only lover…

How big he had gotten…And Arthur had thought his colony had grown before…

The moment Alfred had become fully sheathed nearly caused England to scream in pain, but before the sound could be born, America's lips came to the rescue, capturing the Brit's own in a soul-searching kiss, gentle, soothing, a caress of feathery, cotton-candy-pink clouds.

Arms twined themselves around Alfred's back, hands shaking slightly, the elder's body still adapting to the changes taking place.

"I'm going to move…o-okay Arthur?"

A muted nod of the head was all that occurred, and a rhythm of kind thrusts, moving with excellent precision and a kindness with gentle thoughts, sprinkled in, blossomed forth; England found his voice unleashing delighted moans, sounds he had never before made in his lifetime, his voice reaching octaves higher than imaginable.

America's lips found the European's again, followed by his face and neck, compassionate kisses being left on every centimeter of skin that could be touched, graced with Alfred's presence. The youngling wanted-no, needed-to make sure Arthur got his message clearly enough; that this was a permanent change that was occurring, that there was no going back now. Momentary was not a word existing at this point.

He could feel him, England could feel America; his body was on fire with each grunt the man above him let out, with each thrust into his sweating, shivering-in-ecstasy-body, the thrusts themselves picking up speed with each submissive sound Arthur unleashed.

"A-Alfred…"

His name, his real name, being panted like so caused America himself to moan lasciviously, the dams holding his control back breaking and falling away into a sea of power and lust.

England's voice rang with joy as Alfred's animalistic side came bubbling to the surface once more, his body now being pounded into the mattress's soft surface, the silky sheets rubbing up against a perspiring back that was arching with every erotic motion

Surrealism bloomed in the duo's minds; with each thrust, Arthur felt himself slip away further into a world of little order, and great feelings and emotions; the room was fading away at light-speed, only the sensations of his body joined with Alfred's being left behind.

Lips met sporadically, sloppily, as Alfred moaned his lover's name, America's body aching with desire; every sight, every sound and sense was enhanced to a degree which he had never experienced before in his life. With each call from the Brit underneath him did his member throb and deepen itself in the wanting and willing body of the elder male. Ropes of control were stretched, breaking, and Alfred groaned, nuzzling his face into England's neck, the sights becoming too much for his momentarily-feeble mind, his sex-goo-filled brain no more helpful than a small towel in a hurricane.

England, though, could not help himself, as memories of the past flew into his mind as short shocks, as if lightning was repeatedly hitting his spine.

It had come to all of this…

The Kirkland could see in his mind's eye himself holding up America as a toddler, swinging the young boy, a colony at the time, around in the air, giddy and gay, no war, and no danger amok in the air.

Alfred's eyes were still that shade of blue…

"O-Oh, God, Arthur…" The Jones male's tone of voice was wavering, shaking so much, it struck England at his core. He had never heard, in all his years on the Earth, his dear old rival, friend, and enemy speak to him like so; Arthur had never heard so much need, so much desire, in such a statement before.

_"You used to be so big…"_

The United Kingdom could not help it as the Revolutionary War memory exploded in his mind again; but it held no negative effect on Arthur, not now, not at this point in time. Instead, it only caused him to let out a passionate scream as his prostate was hit, and his hands and body clung harder to America, a pitiful whimper escaping his throat.

…_Do…Do not leave me again…_

_But you will…I know you will…_

_And I cannot stop you this time…_

Tears were springing up in the British one's eyes, but no! He could not let America see him internally sorrowed by the oncoming danger, danger symbolic and synonymous to an oncoming train.

Maybe it was intuition, or maybe it was sheer lust driving America's next action, but his hand came to roughly grip England's hardened and dripping member, squeezing the sensitive flesh, causing England's already-saucer-wide orbs to maximize their dilation.

Saliva-connected kisses with smacking lips bloomed like a springtime field at every possible moment, for both knew they were close, so close to that plunge off the edge into oblivion, into a fleeting, yet still oh-so permanent, paradise.

And as the rain picked up its own pace, so did Alfred, the thrusts into England's hot, wriggling body becoming too much for him; squelching noises and kissing lips muting Mother Nature, the love and fornication taking place inside the ranch more important than any storm, of any type.

"A-Alfred!" England was screaming, over and over, as a non-stop cycle, and Arthur knew this was it, the end; his body was tightening, screaming and pleading for release; but, not to his surprise, America beat him to the punch, the younger nation coming inside of him with a scream, the sound decibels lessened, for the Jones had buried his face once more in the Brit's neck.

The feeling of his lover coming into him, the wet, wild wonders destroyed Arthur's last wall, and he too, released his white juices all over the men's chests, and Alfred's hand.

….With the screams of rapture dying slowly, leaving only soft pants and intakes of air behind, the rain's constant pelt against the glass windows became the predominant sound, save for the noise of removal from Arthur that Alfred caused; nevertheless, neither man had the energy, nor will to speak.

Instead, England snuggled his lean body underneath the warm, silky sheets, America joining his side not a second later. And neither male was surprised, nor spoke up, when Arthur found himself wrapping his arms around the Jones' body tightly, like that of a baby clinging to its mother, begging, praying, she would never leave him.

But Alfred was far from Arthur's mom; no, this situation was worse. Alfred was a hero-a **war** hero.

And though the Brit immediately thought of hundreds of words he could have said, the brighter-blonde-boy was petting his hair in such a soothing manner, the remnants of his energy was fading, England's eyes dropping as his entire body laid atop the stronger and taller man

And the rain soothed his worrying mind…

OoOOoOOoOOOOOOOOoooOoo

That was not an alarm clock beeping in his subconscious…

Nor was America getting off the bed, the mattress creaking, strong hands slipping on an undershirt…

Nor was it four A.M, the sun's rays not even blessing the sky, Helios's chariot not having sped across the galaxy…

But all of the above was true…

And though the rest of yesterday had been spent in peaceful bliss, England having woken up a few hours later, the two spending the rest of the evening and night in each other's arms, even eating a delicious meal of chicken (surprisingly, not fried; perhaps America's normal dietary habits put themselves on hold while Arthur was present) and strawberries and chocolate, it was now dawn.

It was now time to say goodbye…

"Are…you sure you have to go?" Years from now, Arthur would never truly understand why he had asked once more; he knew it was futile, he knew there was no point, so why ask? Maybe he was clinging to a nonexistent hope?

"…Yes." There was a falter to Alfred's voice, the men having their backs to one another, Arthur's green eyes glued to the nearest wall, America's downcast sea-orbs hiding hidden mist.

"…Then I am coming with you."

America did not fail to be silent, complying instead with a nod, daring not to look England in the eye as both men dressed in utter silence, for the United States feared that if he glanced at the Brit, and the man's bleeding heart, he would falter, and say no, and stay.

And he could not afford to stay…

The limousine was already revved and started, as both men slid into the warm confines of the car; Alfred's bags had been secretly packed and loaded during the middle of the night, America himself sneaking out of the bedroom and putting them into the car, not disturbing his lover whatsoever.

No words…

No words were said between the men; was there truly nothing left to say? Or was it still stored away, not being unleashed yet? Would it be unleashed before it was too late?

"…" The Kirkland bloke kept his eyes glued to the window's view, the sun now just beginning to appear on the far eastern horizon; the drive was to take some time, around an hour, and he knew it was to be an uncomfortable hour, if not the most uncomfortable one he had experienced in his life so far.

The saving grace during the long, aching drive turned out to be provided by the departing one himself; a strong, warm hand reached across the few inches of seat between the countries, and America held the European's hand, not sneaking a peak at the man, though. Avoiding complete eye contact, lest he lose his resolve.

…

The air base was beehive-esque busy; now that the sun's rising rays were shimmer red and golden orange, the men could work easier, and work they did. Planes were being fueled with rapid speed, shouts created from end of the base, and heard on the other, farther side. Battle plans were being discussed, formations of the planes, and just as England and the Untied States stepped out from the limousine, a giant group of the fighter jets took off, smoke trailing behind them.

Arthur had not been on an Air Force base in what felt like eons; the sights, the sounds, the busied runways, the bomber planes and fighter jets being checked over for mechanical errors one last time. He did not want to think of how Alfred would be getting on one of those planes in a matter of minutes.

But America acted as if the day's routine had been clearly laid out in his head months before, at least weeks; strolling over to a tall, muscular male, a general England presumed, and saluting with pride, Alfred spoke,

"I am ready to leave whenever you wish, Sir."

The old commander, his graying hair hidden by his hit, his beady blue eyes piercing through America over a knitted brow, nodded, "Denmark and Francis have already left for Germany. It is time you left as well. We need to get there on schedule; I don't wish to fall behind! Once there, you will be taking over a third of the troops there, understood? At least a third until the other nations arrive or the final plans are instated." The general paused to glance over the Jones' shoulder, scowling when he spotted Arthur standing a few feet away, "Take a few minutes to say goodbye, I'll have my men put your things in your plane. You shall be flying out there by yourself? On your own plane?"

"Yes Sir, I shall fly my own plane."

"Very well, now hurry up!" The experienced war veteran barked, walking off to take care of a group of bickering newcomers to the army.

"…" Alfred turned his head, only to see his lover standing behind him, his head bowed, and tears were evident in the elder's eyes; the general's words of ordering a goodbye had been the last straw for the despondent Brit.

"...W-Well…S-So this is it, yes? Haha, I suppose now I have to let you go off and save the world?" The Kirkland tried to crack a joke, instead only causing his voice to crack, and Alfred remained silent, icy eyes boring into England.

"I-I mean, I knew this was coming, but-!!"

America had moved over to him with rapid speed, and the hug that followed caused England to gasp, bury his face in Alfred's shoulder, the lithe European shaking, a choked sob being unleashed.

"Shh…I-I'll be back, okay?" The stutter was bright and bold, clearly audible, and America's hold on his companion tightened, daring not to let go, enjoying the last few seconds they had together.

"…Come back to me in one piece, you git, or I'll never let you hear the end of it."

Alfred tried to laugh, blinking rapidly, hoping he would not shed tears that were pushing forth, the goodbye he had never wished to go through happening and being real; all the while, the happy memories of the past were stinging his inner psyche, telling him he was making a big mistake.

"I-I'm serious!" England did not care of anyone else would see him cry, or make fun of him, he let the tears come, thankfully, though, he was able to control his body, so the shaking spasm of sorrow were not as horrid.

"I know…" Alfred moved his head to kiss the crown of Arthur's cranium, "I'll write to you, I promise. And this will be over before you know it."

"…A part of me says otherwise." The Brit whispered, nuzzling into America's warmth; he wanted to imprint the memory of the heat of his lover in his mind eternally, despite having to let go in a few more seconds…

"Yes, I know that too, but I don't want you to think that. Let the hero worry about that, okay?" England could hear the grin in the younger blonde's voice, and when he lifted his crying head to gaze into the taller nation's eyes, there indeed was a grin, and a thumb's up.

"..." All Arthur could do was nod, but before he could say another word, America placed a chaste, two-second long kiss on his lips, and let go, turning his back on the still-crying-softly European. A soldier held out a pilot aviatrix hat for the American, who took it heartily, the brown leather matching his classic bomber jacket.

All the while, Arthur Kirkland stood rooted in place, watching his former colony walk away, to his favorite bomber plane, a large behemoth painted with the jaws of a shark at the nose, the rest of the flight craft black as night.

_Please…Just look back, just one last time…_

The absorbed Brit neither stirred, nor startled when one of his fuzzy, "make-believe" creatures landed on his shoulder. A green, winged rabbit, whose torso was skirt-like, its large, obsidian eyes staring at the face of the crying human. It made a soft coo, hoping to gain Arthur's attention, and though the United Kingdom knew he was there, Arthur paid him no heed for the moment.

For Arthur's complete attention was wrapped around that plane, it being revved and started, the motor already running, Alfred having seated himself in the cock pit; and, England's wish came true: the American did look back, a small smile on his face, eyes locked onto England's face, giving him another thumb's up, that one gesture saying,

_"I'll be back…"_

And before Arthur could even find time to react with a forced smile or a wave, the plane was moving down the runway, taking off into the sky with a roar, the massive craft becoming smaller and smaller in the Brit's eyes, until it was just a tiny speck, and even that too eventually vanished beyond the horizon.

"….Go." England whispered, not to the air, but to the bunny on his shoulder, "Follow him."

The fairy-creature chirped, tilting its head, and looked even more confused when Arthur reached around and picked the bunny off of his shoulder, holding it closely, and speaking in a hushed tone, a tone trickling with despair,

"I cannot follow him, but you can. You can watch over him for me, and come back to me in case anything happens. Please, will you do that for me?"

The bunny pouted; going off into a war zone? Oh, yeah, that sounded pleasant.

"Please? It would make me a little bit happier…"

Oh, he knew just what to say, didn't he…?

The fairy-rabbit complied, nodding his head with a tiny smile, and after nuzzling into Arthur's cheek, he took off with lightening speed in the direction the plane had flown.

And he too, like America and the plane, vanished from a large dot, to a speck, to nothingness…

And he stood there, for some time….England watched the sun rise higher in the sky, wishing with all his might he could have been the one to follow his lover, instead of sending a friend of his to do the job; but it was the best he could do….At least some angel, some being, would be watching over Alfred for sure….

Despite a soldier coming over to Arthur and ordering him to leave the base, he did not, not for a few hours. Instead choosing to sit there, and stand there from time to time, watching the horizon….

Maybe he was hoping that America's plane would turn around, or maybe he would hope that the plane would return, Alfred hopping out with a giddy gait, crying out, "The war is over! It was cancelled! It's done!"

But no…

Neither occurred…

And as two hours turned into three, England still remained there, watching, waiting…

Hoping for a miracle that was not to occur…

And why move…? Why leave, or why leave right now, at least…?

The main part of his life had flown away on the wings of a metallic beast…

To a land he could not venture, and that thought alone brought tears to his eyes…

But he would stay, waiting, hoping….England would only leave when escorted out by two guards, America's driver having been called to come pick up the Englishmen to escort him back to the airport that would give him access to a homeward-bound plane…

But until then, he would stay…He would stay until the moon rose in the sky, until the stars would arrive, waiting, hoping…

A hope that was futile, a wait that was worthless…

And all England could do was weep…

And pray for a miracle that he hoped somewhere, somehow, some God…would give unto him…

A miracle of safety…

And return…

While he waited upon his own Widow's Walk...

_OooOOOOOOooooooooooooooOOoOOOoOOOoOOooooOoooOOo_

"cras amet qui nunquam amavit; quique amavit, cras amet"

_May he love tomorrow who has never loved before;  
And may he who has loved, love tomorrow as well_

**END OF ACT I**

_OoOoooooooOoOOoOooOoOoOOOoooOoOOOOooOoOOooooOOooooOOOoOoo_


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